


A Perilous Path

by LivingBreathingGay



Category: Sander Sides
Genre: #Emile and Remy are soft, #hmmm I wonder who Orion is, #please leave comments i need serotonin, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Angst, Bullying, But also, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I just gotta find it, It’s Complicated, Logic | Logan Sanders Angst, M/M, Magic, Minor Violence, Morality | Patton Sanders Angst, Multi, Other, Shapeshifting, Slow Burn, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, Thomas is a dog, Unsympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, i promise there’s a happy ending somewhere, kind of?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:47:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 39,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21652978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivingBreathingGay/pseuds/LivingBreathingGay
Summary: Set in Foster Hollow, a small town next to an alluring forest. Logan Sanders grew up to be a curious boy, too curious if you ask anyone in that town. What is truly wrong with the forest? Why is his dog acting so strange? Why does he feel so incomplete? What happens when he is entranced into the forest? But most importantly, how did he escape?And most importantly, how does Logan collect himself a gaggle of boyfriends?
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil & Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil/Creativity | Roman/Logic | Logan/Morality | Patton, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Roman Sanders & Original Character, Deceit | Janus Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani/Deceit Sanders/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Joan & Talyn - Relationship, Joan x Beanie, Logic | Logan Sanders & Dr. Emile Picani, Logic | Logan Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders & Sleep | Remy Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders & Original Character, Original Character/Original Character
Comments: 33
Kudos: 74





	1. It’s Hard to Think Through Rose Tinted Glasses

Every person who lived in Foster Hollow knew one thing, taught to them as soon as they were old enough to wobble on stubborn little legs; stay away from the woods.

  
A small town in Pennsylvania, near the deep forests of the Appalachian Mountains that prevented all but the most determined from entering. Where exactly you were in those mountains was vague as soon as you entered, the outside world seemed farther away than just fifty-four miles.

  
The woods of Foster Hollow seemed inviting, one that would teasingly call you towards them, looking for a spring dance. The forest, from the outside, glowed with life, flowers gently swaying in the wind and the trees framing the breeze.

  
During the day, the sun smiled on the trees, painting a tender image of something right out of a storybook. The sounds of the forest would fill your ears until you were standing right in front of it, feet sore and a glazed smile on your face, unaware of how you got there.

  
If you look past the glamour of the bluebirds song, you would see that the inside of the forest was completely dark, the branches having choked out any light.

  
You would see that the bluebirds were not singing, but crying out, looking for ones that had disappeared while venturing too close to the red berries of the weeping willow.

  
You would see the human-like shadows flickering between bushes, some that seemed to smile at you as you felt your stomach turn.

  
You would see people who stumbled over their feet, entranced by music that wasn't there, looking through the trees for something they would never find.

  
You would see that the woods of Foster Hollow was not the innocent forest, straight out of a child's book, as you thought.

But once you saw that, it was too late.

Logan Sanders was born in Foster Hollow, a seemingly normal child if you got past the brash force of his questions. He grew up with his fathers, Remy and Emile Sanders, who some would say one of them would be the reason for his bluntness.

  
Remy was the sarcastic caffeine-addicted owner of Not Morning People, a popular café for college students. Emile was an empathic therapist, one whose unique techniques made him able to crack open even the toughests of hearts.

  
They lived together in a quaint house that some would call a "fixer upper" near the edge of town. Their backyard faced the forest, and at night, Logan would stare out his window, looking past the top of the treetops, to the starry sky above. Logan loved stars, the beautiful, yet organized way they stole the sky. He could not deny if some nights his gaze strayed to the dark, enticing thicket below.

  
He grew up in a loving house, and it was no question that both Emile and Remy adored Logan.They were overwhelmingly supportive of Logan, and supported him on his quest for answers.

That was their first mistake.

Curiosity was not the most respected trait in Foster Hollow. One would think that it would be good for a child to be curious, wanting to learn, but every parent in Foster Hollow knew better than that. Being curious would lead to finding answers to questions that were much better off hidden. Because in this town, being curious could get you killed.

  
Logan was needlessly inquisitive, and his wonder for the world star struck his parents. Wonderfilled at being parents, they encouraged their son by buying him books and taking him on adventures. They raised a son that wanted to know everything, from the stars that decorated the night sky, to the depths of the darkest part of the ocean. Unlike other parents, they answered all of Logan's questions, good or bad.

That was their second mistake.

With all of this, it wasn't a surprise to anyone when Logan was the one to fall for the forest's tricks. They all knew the Sanders child was too curious for his own good, and the forest promised a good mystery.

What surprised them was the fact that he returned.


	2. The Star Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has nightmares. Horrible dreams that tear up your reality. They might ruin your night, but sooner or later you’ll wake up. Sooner or later someone will come and bring you back to reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh I torture poor Logan in the beginning of the chapter. Don’t worry it gets super fluffy after the beginning!  
Warnings: Nightmares, Kind of Hypnosis, Implied Slimey Boi

The trees leaned forward invitingly, and Logan stepped on the glimmering leaves as he entered the forest. Almost immediately, the sunlight that was pouring behind him was snatched away. The branches that once leaned forward, almost looking like the tree was giving him a hug, were now menacingly towering over him. Only the most muted light could come through the roof of leaves, and Logan could barely make out the willow tree that he could not tear his eyes away from before.

Panicking, he whirled around, looking for the entrance that he had just so casually walked through. He raced back (how had he gotten so far in?), seeing the sharp burst of sunlight that was slowly getting smaller and smaller. He stretched his arm out, desperately trying to rip the vines that were closing in on his only escape. No matter how hard he tried, he could only watched helplessly as his only hope winked out like a far away dream.

Logan could not remember the long walk here. The only thing he remembered was burned against his eyelids when he closed them, the image of a faintly hazy tree that slouched with the grace of a ballerina. He could see with surprising clarity the round berries that were colored the sharp red of a wicked smile.

He shook his head, trying to shake the image that had so entranced him just a few minutes ago. Or was it a few hours? The longer he stayed here, the less he knew how long it had been. Given he could not go back, he might as well walk forwards and see what was awaiting him.

Shadows crawled menacingly on the ground, tugging at Logan’s shoes. Logan could hear screeches and screams, terrified creatures running and dying from ones that could only be seen in nightmares. Logan searched blindly, hoping that they would not be able to find them in the pitch black forest. For if they found him, there would be nothing but a pained scream and then silence.

Suddenly, a bright light cut through his spiraling thoughts. Hysterically, he grinned, and stumbled towards the light over roots that seemed to pull at his feet and softer, much softer things that he didn’t want to think about. He gladly went towards the light source, happy that he had finally found an escape from this horrible, horrible place.

Eyes fixated on the light, he barely noticed that the light was slowly becoming two. His mind jumped in terror, but his feet kept walking to those lights no matter how hard he tried. In horror, he could now make out the sharp, yellow lights that resembled slitted eyes. He stopped before the lights with the grace of a puppet, barely breathing, and felt a soft hand caressing his face. 

The silky smooth hand traveled possessively down his face, Logan’s skin crawling with disgust.

“Oh little bird, you didn’t think you could away from me that easily~”

———————————————————

Logan screamed, ripped out of his dream as he launched himself off his star patterned bed. He hung partially off the bed, legs tangled in the glittering sheets, heart racing with a terror he had never felt before. 

He swore he could still see the mesmerizing yellow eyes that enchanted his feet and imprisoned his mind, still could feel the soft glove on his face, almost calculated when it drifted down towards his chin.He couldn’t breathe- he needed to breathe- _ why couldn’t he breathe where were his dads _ ** _where are you where was he go aWAY please~_ **

“_ Logan, oh sweetie, you need to breathe. Hunny, can you breathe with me? It was only a dream, starlight, just a bad dream.” _

The sound of his dad’s soft voice seemed to come from miles away. It was murky as if he had said it above the bathtub while Logan was under the soapy water. Was he underwater? That would make more sense to why he couldn’t breathe-

“_ Logan, open your eyes, you’re okay. My star, can I touch you?” _

Touching. No, no touching when he could still feel the silky smooth glove tracing his face, soft but unrelenting. Not when he could still feel the sharp air on his skin, laughing at him as he stumbled towards his doom. 

“_ I’m sorry, starlight, you need to breathe. Can you open your eyes for me Lo-Lo?” _

Lo-Lo. His dad called him Lo-Lo, and he hated it. He was a serious eight year old, and he would not be seen as so immature. Oh god, he usually hated it, but he loved it right now, because that meant his dad was here and Logan was safe. 

He slowly cracked open his eyes, seeing his dad crouched in front of him, shoulders slumping in relief when he realized that Logan could see him. That he was there, not locked in the back corner of his mind with familiar memories that he could not remember having before. His dad knocked a breathing pattern on the wood planks, wanting Logan to match it. He slowly took a breath. 

_ In goes his dads concerned pout and his smell of lavender, the weathered pink tie that he refused to take off, ever. _

_ Out goes the twisted forest that trapped him in its clutches and drowned out all hope through ivy walls. Out goes his helplessness in being dragged towards his doom. _

_ Out having to watch himself be played with like a long-lost doll by those hypnotic yellow eyes. _

“Dad?” He questioned, wondering if this was still part of a twisted dream.

“It’s me, my star.” Emile smiled, reaching out to pat his shoulder, but thought better of it. Logan gave a tiny smile, wanting the comfort of his dad’s hugs that felt like warm marshmallows and his deep, strong breathing that never faltered. He threw himself onto his dad’s lap, for once happy that his Dad could pick him up, and yes, even call him the stupid nickname, Lo-Lo. 

_ As long as he was never called Little Bird again- _

He would be safe in his dad’s stupidly strong hold, where he could just bury himself in those endless lavender fields. 

He grinned up at Emile, tears long forgotten. “Can I have waffless? Pretty Pwease!” His lisp slurring over a few letters in a way that his dads called “adorable” and he called “annoying”. 

Emile smirked back down at him, and yelled,”Oh Remy~, do you think you can handle this little prince while I make waffles?” Logan’s eyes widened and he tried to squirm out of his Dad’s grip, which only tightened the more he struggled. Blood rushes to his head as Emile flipped him upside down, letting Logan’s star-patterned pajama shirt hang down, leaving his belly under covered. He saw Remy casually strut into the room, sipping his usual coffee. 

Remy smirked, looking at Logan with a mischievous look in his eyes, straw hanging out of his mouth, drink immediately orgotten. “Oh my little Prince, what a shame it is that your belly button is exposed.” Remy places his coffee down on the nightstand, fingers ghosting over Logan’s stomach as he giggled. “I heard that certain magic princes have a magic spot on their belly button. I wonder where yours is~”’

Logan squeaked as Remy prodded his belly button, then watched in horror as Emile laughed and handed Logan off to Remy. Remy’s surprisingly strong arms gripped Logan, and saw that his face was painted with a thoughtful expression.

“So, my little star, did you know that star princes can have magic spots in other places?” Remy smirked, corners of his mouth tilted up.”I guess we’ll have to check other places too then, to find your magic spot. Totally not to tickle you.” His fingers stopped right above his stomach, and then after a tortured pause, he shoved his fingers down and danced over Logan’s exposed stomach. The reaction was immediate.

“DADDY! THAT TICKLES!” Logan giggled out between breaths, squirming this way and that trying to escape Remy’s attack. His fingers skimmed over Logan’s hips, and a startled snort escaped him.

“Oh, my prince, I think I found your magic spot!” Remy chuckled, hearing Logan’s hysterical laughter bubbles out of him. Logan wriggled, trying to escape, but Remy’s delicate touch always found its mark. He was screaming with laughter when an amused Emile popped his head through the door.

“All right Remy, I think you tortured him enough. Besides, Breakfast is ready, and it’s a Together Breakfast!” Remy huffled at his husband’s antics, flipping Logan around so he was being carried bridal-style.

“Now, a ride fit for a special Prince!” Remy whirled out of the room, holding a giggling Logan, cheeks pink with laughter and fading red eyes. He ran downstairs, and twirled around before plopping his flushed son on a chair. “Dear, this is a breakfast for royalty! I love you so much!” Remy grabbed his husband’s tie and pulled him in for a tender kiss, breaking apart when they heard Logan booing in the background. 

“Now what do you want to do today, Loganberry?” Emile asked Logan, who had a piece of jam smeared waffle in his mouth. Remy laughed at Logan, and took a bite of his own fruit covered waffle. 

Logan chewed fast, his plate of golden waffles long forgotten.” I wanna-I wanna see the stars!” Logan excitedly clapped, stars of his own filling his clear midnight eyes. Emile cooed at the adorable

sight, which made Logan pout, which made him coo even more.

Remy choked back an amused laugh, and lovingly said,” Dear, I know you’re the star prince but the stars don’t arrive for a while. They are far away from us.” Logan’s mouth formed a giant O, and then his forehead scrunched as he thought about it. Emile

smiled at his family, watching their silly conversation. 

Logan gasped, the perfect idea coming to him. “I wanna go to the field! The one with all the flowers! Like roses and tuwips and lav-“His nose wrinkled, trying to remember the word,” lavender! Pwease! We can see all of stars there later!” He widened his eyes, giving his parents a pouting look. His dads pretended to talk about it, not showing that their hearts were already set on it.

“I don’t know sweetheart, it’s a little far-

“And have you done your homework?” Emile smirked, knowing Logan already did his homework. He gave an amused glance to Remy, and they both nodded.

“Well, little star, we can go, but you can’t go in your pjs!” Logan looked down, realizing what he was wearing and raced upstairs to change.He threw on his favorite blue shoes with his regular play clothing, and after a moment of consideration put on his galaxy skirt.

He ran back downstairs, hopping impatiently as he agonizingly waited for them to be ready.

“Can-can we bring Thomas?” Logan asked, hoping to play with his dog. Thomas the best dog ever, and he knew so many tricks and was so, so cool! “I’m gonna make him a Crown! He’ll be a prince like me! Prince Thomas!” Remy smiled and nodded. Logan eagerly threw open the back door, racing to where Thomas was laying on the sun-kissed grass. 

“Thomas! Tommy! Tom! Thomas!” The dog awoke with a startled snort at Logan impatiently shouting his name.”We are gonna go to- to that pretty field! And see the stars!” Thomas seemed to grin, and slowly stretched. He stood up, and they both waited for Logan’s parents to finish getting ready. 

“All right star, we are ready.” Logan squeaked and ran ahead of his parents, quickly opening the rusted gate that marked the end of their backyard. Behind his backyard was a glorious field of flowers, giving the grass a painted look as he sprinted through the warm field. He kept running through the flowers, trying to find the best spot to sit, when suddenly a shadow was cast over him. Looking up, he noticed that he had reached the forest.

Logan didn’t really know much about the forest. He knew that he wasn’t allowed to go in, and whenever he talked about it, his parents would exchange looks and quickly change the topic. If he brought up the forest, his dads faces would drain of color and he could see the worry in their eyes. But he never understood why he couldn’t go in.

Maybe he could. 

“-ogan! Logan!” His dad’s worries shouts pulled him out of his thoughts. He realized that he was reaching towards the forest, staring at what seemed to be a bent tree. He was confused. How had he gotten so distracted? 

In a nervous habit, he reached down and tugged on the bottom of his shirt, it slowly tightening over his chest. He felt a warm, wet nose reach under his hand, and he saw Thomas standing next to him, looking for pets. 

He slowly smiled, mind still befuddled but clearing quickly by the soothing feel of Thomas’s sleek fur. 

Turning around, he walked back to his parents, who relaxed when they saw him farther and farther away from the forest. 

“All right Lo, ready to make a crown worthy of kings?” Emile softly said, grabbing his hand and gently pulling him to the ground. He excitedly nodded, and grabbed hold of the prettiest flowers, with soft blues and deep purples and hot reds. He sorted out his flowers, and turned around.

“Don’t- don’t look! I want it to be a sur- surpise!” He grumbled, hearing Emile’s soft tinkling bell laughter and Remy’s donkey-like wheeze. He pouted, and pointed his fingers at them. “You better not look!”

He grabbed his flowers, and slowly weaved a flower crown that slurred colors together like a paintbrush. 

His fingers grew sore from the weaving, but he had to finish. He grabbed his last flower, a single midnight colored beauty, and placed it right in the front. 

He admired his handwork, and then turned around to where Thomas lay sleepily behind him. He slowly placed the crown on Thomas’s head, who awoke with a start. He relaxed, and Thomas’s eyes seem to light up with joy.

“See- You’re a prince, too, Thomas!” Logan whispered to the dog, who nodded his head, tongue hanging out, seeming to say thank you. “Look- Dad, Daddy! Thomas is a prince!” 

Remy chuckled, and reached behind his back, pulling out a dark blue flower crown, scattered with deep purples and soft yellow-whites. He leaned forward, placing the crown on Logan’s head. Logan watched in delight, the crown seeming to be made of the stars themselves.

“Look, you finally have your crown, star prince! And a glorious one, if I do say so myself.” Remy smirked, and Emile gently smacked his arm, an amused look on his face covered with fake annoyance. “Well, I was going to give you a crown too, but now I don’t think I shall.” Remy huffed, turning away with a dramatic look of hurt on his face. 

“Well, how about I trade you? I’ll give you the one I made, if you give me yours.” Emile smiled, pulling out a lipstick-red flower crown, as bright and as bold as Remy. Logan watched, laughing at his parents as Remy immediately turned around and snatched the crown out of Emile’s hands, dropping another crown in his lap. The crown that Remy made was soft, made of baby blues and pinks scattered with white, the same color of angel’s wings. 

Logan noticed the sky getting dark, and shot up. “Look! Look! The stars- they’re here!” His parents turned around, watching Logan glow with passion as he pointed out the stars he knew. Remy wrapped his arm around his husband, who pulled Logan close. Logan cuddled into his parents, waving his arm across the sky, taking in the faraway beauty.

Together they sat, watching the sky fade to a deep, rich blue, watching the stars emerge from their hiding places.

Together they sat, safe and warm, watching the glittering stars that dusted the sky as they fell into a comfortable sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How’d you like it!  
I wanted to show Logan’s family relationship a little more.  
Don’t worry, next time we’ll get someone else’s backstory :3


	3. The Black Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton was a very happy, bubbly child, who loved helping others. He also loved his mom and his friends, who were currently just Roman, an excitable red-haired boy.   
He also had a slight problem.   
He was being watched, by someone who seemed to know him better than he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y’all! Sorry for the delay, it’s been a busy week!   
Warnings: Yelling(only a little), reference to self-harm

Patton was swinging on a rusty swing in his backyard, happily humming a tune, when he noticed a faint outline of a person in the already dark forest. He wondered why the forest looked like someone dimmed their lights because around the trees the sun was still high in the sky. Why would someone want to be in the forest when the sun was shining and it was time to play and have fun! 

The shape flickered through the trees, coming closer in view, but still too far away for Patton’s poor eyes to see very well. Patton felt such a longing to go and see what it wanted, and he thought he knew what it wanted. Friendship. It was lonely. It was waving at him, urging him to fly right out of his swing right into the arms that would surely catch him if he would fall-

He frowned, shaking his head, remembering that his parents told him to never go into that forest. The conversation they had the first time Patton brought up the figure in the forest was somewhat scary. Not that his parents were scary, but something else. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

_ “Hey Mama, Can we go in the forest! It looks so pretty!” Patton exclaimed, wringing his small, innocent hands into shapes. His mom’s face, which was once playfully distracted, snapped back to attention at the word forest. Seeing his mom’s face drain with color, he frowned, slowing his once blurred movements. _

_ “Mama, what’s wrong?” Patton questioned, grabbing for her hand, which jolted away at his touch like it was electricity.  _

_ “You can never- NEVER- go inside that forest. Do you understand me, young man! NEVER!” His mom’s calm demeanor cracking as she shrilly screamed the last word. Patton was confused. And sad. His mama never yelled at him, so the forest must be really bad for her to do that. He nodded quickly, holding her steady gaze, and relaxed when he saw her shoulders slump in relief.  _

_ His mama slowly stood, and watched Patton with tender but concerned eyes, and asked, “What made you want to go in that silly old forest anyway?”  _

_ Patton’s eyes lit up.“Oh! I saw someone inside! They waved at me, and said they wanted to be my friend!”  _

Snapping out of his haze, he saw that the figure seemed to get closer. Patton could see her abnormally pale hair, and her eyes that were the color of a pond frozen over. She swayed gracefully, seeming to flicker in and out of vision as she came closer. Swanlike in her appearance and actions, Patton doubted that she even was real. He was always seeing things, which was why he needed his glasses! 

Stopping in front of him, she reached up her hands and traced them over Patton’s confused face. His skin crawled at her touch, her ghostly pale fingers tracing the dimples in his rosy cheeks. Her hands were ice cold. 

Her mouth twisted in a gruesome smile, showing off pearly whites that were carved into points. Dropping her hand, she grabbed his hand instead, rubbing a soft circle into his skin, a doting look that melted her sharp face.

“Soon, my dear, soon.”

~~~~~~~~~~~ (Next Day Cause Please)

“Patton, dear, please slow down! We’ll be there in a minute!” His mother yelled across the field, Patton already halfway across, bouncing in his excitement. He grudgingly turned around, exaggerating as he dragged his feet to his mother on the dewy grass. He pouted, shoulders slumped in childlike sadness, an emotion similar to the wind if you consider that it never stayed. 

“Mamaaaa, it’s time to go to the playieground. Let’s go- Let’s go!” Patton whined as he grabbed his mother’s hand and tugged her, trying to move her seeming cement feet. Her face softened, a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes gracing it, and her eyes crinkled as she squinted at Patton. 

“Okay, okay. Run along, go make friends-“ An afterimage of Patton stood there for a second as the real one sprinted towards the park. She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted,” AND REMEMBER, DON’T TALK TO STRANGERS!”

His mother’s words barely touched him as he sped, grinning, to the park. He was going to make so many friends! He couldn’t wait until he could hang out with his cool new friends, without adult supervision! 

Patton spotted a brightly colored boy by the swings, and rushed over to him. The boy was closing his eyes, and was swinging back and forth. Waiting for the boy to come closer, he tapped the red-haired boy on his shoulder, and he swiveled his head like a bird.

“Hi! My name is Patton! Wanna play?” Patton said excitedly, watching the red boy’s face light up, matching Patton’s grin. He leaped off the swing theatrically, sinking into a bow when he hit the ground. 

“Greetings! I am Prince Roman! And you must be the visiting prin-princess!” Roman’s face showing clear delight at being able to say the last word. He took Patton’s hand and tugged him forward, Patton giggling in response. 

“Come, Princess Patton. The Dragonwitch is coming! I must protect you! Into the castle!” Patton was pulled up the steps of the huge playground, Roman parking him right in front of the rainbow slide. He ran back down, leaving a very confused Patton, and grabbed a pointy stick.

“Now Princess, with my sword I can defeat the Dragonwitch! And save such a beautiful princess as well!” Roman waved around the stick, putting on a show for the enraptured Patton. He noticed how Patton’s eyes followed his every movement, and grinned. Roman loved a good adventure. 

Spinning around, he looked for the imaginary opponent, a look of determination on his face. 

“Patton! I have spotted the Witch herself! She is behind you, in the slide!” Patton gasped at Roman’s words, quickly backing away from the increasingly evil looking slide.”Never fear! I shall save you!” Roman charged back to the playground, his eyes locked onto the slide. He stopped in front of the slide, wildly waving the stick. 

“Aha! Take that, you villain! Stay away from Patton, you burnt crouton!” Patton immerses himself in the story, seeing the gleaming crown on Roman’s fiery hair, the snake-like smirk covering the Witch’s face. 

Roman suddenly staggered, covering a fake wound on his left side. Patton gasped, rushing towards Roman, but Roman threw his hands out. “No! I can stop her!” 

Dramatically, he shoved the imagined witch into the slide, and got ready to jump down himself. Patton threw himself to Roman’s side, begging him not to go with his pleading pout.

Roman grimaced , and withdrew his hand from Patton’s, as he had grabbed it. “Patton, dear, I have to stop her! Tell my story! Don’t let my sacrifice be for nothing!” He called as he threw himself into the slide, his voice fading as it traveled down.

Patton rushes down the steps, running towards the slide. Wood chips flew beneath his feet as he looked for the prince. When he arrived, Roman was sitting on the colorful slide; and was he bleeding?

“Are you okay?” He asked, looked at Roman’s bleeding knee. “How did you do that?”

Roman put on a brave face, lifting up his sword. “The Dragonwitch sliced me with claws. Obviously I didn’t stab myself with my own sword.” Patton nervously laughed, still concerned about the still bleeding gash on Roman’s leg. 

“It’s okay, Prince, I will collect a healer.” Patton said, playing along for Roman’s benefit, seeing his friend unconsciously relax. He started walking back to the benches that decorated the outside of the park, near the glimmering leaves of the forest. 

A pale, slender trunk of a women stood watching on the side, her long limbs gracefully arranged, almost deliberately. Her eyes reflected light like a black mirror, mysterious and alien, but was kinder than a regular mirror if you took the time to look in. 

Mirrors are like the ocean, honest and cruel.

But when you saw the black, cold mirror in the rushing, choking waves, you knew the ocean had kindness but no mercy.

One that embraced you but didn’t let go.

“Hello sunlight,” She said, tenderly reaching a hand towards him. Patton let her hand fall to her side, confused. “I’ve seen you as you’ve grown. You truly do like to help people, yes?” 

Patton nodded his head, confused. “Yes missy, but my friend Roman is hurt and I kinda need-“

She smoothly interrupted him, tenderly grabbing his hand. “How would you like to be able to help everyone?” Her pale hand shone in contrast to his tan skin, stroking a circle into his sun-kissed hand. The feeling was familiar, something his mother would do, but she was not his mother. And she was confusing. Why is she asking these questions?

“I would missy, but my friend-“ Patton was cut off by the white lady squeezing his hand so much it started to tingle. Her ice-cold hand was suddenly burning hot, making his skin crawl under her grip. For such a frail, breakable looking person, she was as strong as an ox, surprising Patton. He considered yelling for help, but a soft but secure voice inside of him reassured him that he would be fine. 

“As one so selfless to wish to help others, I shall allow you this gift.” Her smooth voice reached him just as her hand reached a boiling temperature, cooking his skin. He frantically attempted to yank his hand away, but her grip was like hot iron. Once Patton could no longer feel his poor hand, the temperature dropped. Her hands were once again freezing cold against his skin, and they sent icy needles through Patton’s cooked skin.

She dropped his hand, which now had a pale imprint of a small, familiar hand on it. She smiled, and then said, “Now go help your friend, Patton. You’ll find it much easier than before.” In a blink of an eye, she stepped back into the forest, and shadows seemed to swallow her whole. 

He stumbled backwards, and started walking back towards Roman, who was still sitting on the slide, impatiently waiting for Patton to come back. He startled when he saw Patton, his back jerking upwards like a marionette.

“Princess! You have returned! And so quickly!” Frowning, he noticed Patton’s dazed expression. “Princ- Patton, are you okay?” Patton’s head snapped to attention when he heard his name. 

“I’m purr-fect Roman! You’re the one that looks paws-itively claw-ful!” He grinned, pointing at his light pink cat shirt. Roman groaned dramatically, and dropped backwards.

“I’m on my deathbed, Patton. ‘Tis not the time to be making jokes.” Roman sighed, laying his hand over his forehead and closing his deep green eyes. He groaned with exaggerated pain, and then cracked open his eyes to see if Patton was still looking.

Giggling, Patton places his hand on Roman’s knee, withdrawing it the second he realized what knee he had placed it on. Roman immediately flinched, and covered his knee gently with his hand.

“Oh I’m so so sorry Roman, I forgot!” Patton exclaimed, hands clasped gently together, eyes pinched in concern. Roman sat frozen for a minute, a befuddled look on his face. The normally expressive face was dazed, eyes lazily catching Patton’s movements. “What’s wrong? Does it hurt more?”

Roman slowly looked at him, eyes asking questions that Patton wasn’t aware existed. Questions that Patton could never answer.

“No, Patton.” Patton started to talk again, a curious tilt to his head. Roman hushed him, and continued. “You don’t understand; It doesn’t hurt. At all.” 

As Roman removed his hand, Patton could see the smooth, unblemished skin of Roman’s knee. Patton looked at his hand, pale handprint still visible; what had the swan lady given him? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don’t like interrupting this story, but I wanted you to fully understand what had just happened. I would listen, as this is one of the few times I will try to be direct.

The white lady had burned a “gift” into Patton’s hand, one that would allow him to heal all physical ailments in a split-second. Something that Patton has been yearning for ever since he knew how to think.

You could consider this a gift: One that would allow Patton be able to help others.

But this gift held the stinging bite of salt in your eyes after swimming under the dark waves. Once you cleared your eyes, you would see that Patton’s healing was no gift. 

It was a curse.

Everyone knew that if someone, or something that had magick dancing through their veins, offered you a deal, there would be a consequence. They loved offering deals, seeing what the humans truly wanted, and twisting it. Poor, naive Patton, was not aware of that.

He didn’t even know he was making a deal. He didn’t even know what a deal was, or how it worked. 

Maybe her actions were out of kindness, a gift for Patton so he could truly be happy.

Maybe she saw the good in Patton, and gave him a true selfless gift. 

**Or maybe she played him-**

Maybe the Swan Lady knew what she was doing, placing it out of pure spite, to show that Patton could not help everyone, as he so desperately wanted to. Maybe it was a reminder to the fact that he could only help stall the bleeding and not stop the blade. 

And when you’re in the dark, don’t look for a light in the mirror.

After all, a mirror only reflects. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed my story? Write in the comments who you want to see next!


	4. It is Still a Trap Even If You Know You’re Walking Into It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil knew he wasn’t supposed to go into the forest, but against all of his instincts, he ends up doing it. What happens when Virgil follows a red phoenix into the forest?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I had some problems with a couple scenes.
> 
> Warnings: Slight Blood, Deceit Is Evil, Panic, Bruising

A red bird swirled through the sky, painting the blue sky shades of red that faded over time. Its bold color stuck out in the cool sky, a tired blue that stepped back for this bright new color. Virgil could not tell at first where it was heading through its dramatic flips and turns, but after a while, it was clear where it was headed. It was flying right into the forest.

Virgil was entranced by its body, ever in motion, forcing the image of glittering flames to dance against his eyes. It’s wings trailed so delicately behind it, creating the mirage of gentle flames lapping the hearth of the sky. The bird suddenly turned around, and the contrast of its deep green eyes startled him. They were sharp, giving off a jagged stare that soon melted as it noticed Virgil staring at him. A smirk seemed to grace the fire bird’s face, and it opened its yellow beak and music came out. Strong, passionate pitches gently soared over the wind, and called out to Virgil. _ Come with me _, it seemed to say. 

Virgil didn’t notice his legs stumbling over the grassy field, almost tripping over a sharp rock that protruded from the ground. With his gaze aimed towards the sky, he didn’t notice the roots snaking towards him, grasping at his untied shoelaces. But they weren’t the ones moving. He was. He was the one running dazedly straight into the forest like a lamb to slaughter. He didn’t fall into a trap. He willingly walked in.

The bird gently passed the horizon of the trees, seemingly still in the air, then shot downwards into the forest below. Virgil rubbed his eyes, sore from staring, and realized he was standing at the edge of the forest. He knew he should walk away, he knew that the last time someone went in that was the last time they saw them. He shook his head, and was about to turn his back on this treacherous place when he heard a sweet call ring from the inside. His bird’s call. A flash of red, the color of a lingering sunset, shot through the trees before the song was abruptly silenced. 

The glimpse of his red shimmered before his eyes. His red, his dancing red, that had so confidently owned the sky just moments before. The color of his mother’s name, sweet and rich, just as precious as any jewel. His moment of indecision had been abruptly ended; he turned on his heel and faced the forest. The trees leered forwards at him, and after steeling his nerves, he cautiously walked inside.

As he looked around, he could see the trees that reached up towards the sky, longing, but had vines hanging off of them like chains. The grass around the roots were a sickly yellow shade, quietly choked out by the bulging roots. 

Leaves crunched loudly under his feet, and he nervously pinched his eyelids together, expecting something to jump out at him. But nothing came, and he slowly opened his eyes to a grinning red-haired boy standing over him.

He jumped back, and the boy laughed, teasing him. “Jeez, you really are jumpy, Sir Frights-A-Lot.” He glared back, trying not to look relieved at the fact he wasn’t alone in here. “At your service, Roman Prince.” He finished with a dramatic bow that brushed the ground.

Virgil stood back, crossing his arms, and snarked back,”Well, I wouldn’t be so scared if you weren’t standing over me like a stalker, uh- Prince Under-Arms-Stink.” 

Roman gasped back dramatically, holding his arms to his chest, a fake look of hurt on his face. “Excuse me, I believe you were the stalker, you fiend!” Virgil rolled his eyes at Roman, who had cocked his hip and was clearly waiting for a response.

“What stalker? I’ve never seen you before in my life.” Virgil viciously threw back, an honest tone under all the sarcasm. He was trying to hide his racing thoughts from the boy, trying to figure out if he had seen him before. Through his racing thoughts he caught the Roman’s eye, green like a dark emerald in a spring forest. Green like eyes he had seen, hadn’t he?

“No seriously, Princey,” Virgil sincerely said, ignoring Roman’s choked gasp at his new nickname,”I’ve never seen you. Like, actually.” Roman grinned, and then smothered the look with an innocent one, complete with a head tilt and a slight pout of the lips. Virgil, staring perplexed at the boy, wondered what was going on inside his head.

“Alright then, (K)night of Frightsville, I’ll drop it. But I want to know what you-“ Roman reached out and poked Virgil in the middle of his chest, smirking.”-are doing in the middle of this forest.” 

Virgil smacked Roman’s tan hand away from him, and then grinned. “I could ask you the same, Princey.” Roman gasped and fell backwards, a pretend look of hurt on his face. He started sputtering something along the lines of “Princey” and “Such disrespect”. Virgil laughed, a tinkling sound that seemed to glow amongst the shadowy trees. Roman looked up at Virgil, blushing, seeing him in a new light, glowing with happiness. Virgil, still having a tiny smile on his face, stared down at Roman, a tiny halo seeming to glow on him from a miraculous crack in the roof of branches.

Virgil cleared his throat, face reddening, and broke the connection that sparked from the deep green eyes and the mismatched purple and green eyes. 

Roman stood up from the ivy covered ground and shook the shy, vulnerable look from his face.

He posed triumphantly, hands on his hips, and said,” Well, Downy-Side Up, if you really want to know, you’ll have to catch me.” and spun around on his foot and disappeared among the trees. 

“Hey! Princey! Where are you going?” Virgil called out, shooting forward and running across the small clearing in the trees. His feet snapped fallen branches with every step he took, the cracks echoing in his head. His worrying gave his feet a boost, carrying him through densely packed bushes. Howls shot through the silence, noises that Virgil had not heard before with Roman. _ Where was Roman taking him? _

A low-hanging branch swatted Virgil in the face, Virgil just distractingly humming in return. He could see a vague outline of Roman in the distance, and pushed himself to move even faster than before. He slowly gained on the figure that seemed to be slowing down.

“Hey! Disappearing on me! What the heckity-heck was that, Mr. Prince-Of-The-Forest?” Virgil angrily said, hands flying out in a burst of emotion. Roman simply started laughing, a small chuckle at first that grew into a deep belly-laugh after seeing the expression on Virgil’s face. 

“Oh Virgil,” He drawled, humor decorating his face,” What, I can't just run off in the distance whenever I want?” 

Virgil stood still, thoughts stilling as he finally realized that Roman was okay. Well, he was calling him by his name, which could be another good thing. “ Um, I guess, Prince Charming. But warn a dude next time, alright?” He clicked his tongue as he finished what he was saying. 

Roman stood stock-still for a moment, a shit-eating grin covering his face. He took a step towards Virgil, the smile only growing in size. “Hey Virgil,” He smirked, “Do you know how to dance?” 

Virgil shook his head, confused at what Roman was asking. “No, why are you asking m-E” A shriek spouted from Virgil’s lips as Roman reached forwards and grabbed Virgil. With Roman’s strong hands firmly planted on his wrists, he obliged, allowing himself to be dragged along for a dance. 

Roman twirled Virgil around, leading him as a strange expression covered his face. Calm, but there was something else too. He pulled Virgil around in a dance that brushed the edges of the small clearing they had stopped in. It was almost a gentle dance, and Virgil could almost relax and let Roman led him through the dance. But he couldn’t. He wasn’t sure why. 

It could’ve been the fact that the hands on his wrists were a little too tight to make it a gentle hold. It might’ve been the fact that the closeness between them was almost staged as Roman drew Virgil near for a dip. It could’ve been the smirk in Roman’s eyes that disappeared when he realized Virgil was looking at him. It might’ve been the fact that Roman was silent when he had got the feeling earlier that the red-haired boy was as loud as they come. 

It probably was the fact that Virgil had not told Roman his name. 

As Virgil realized this startling fact, a figure crashed through the bushes beside them. They leaned over, panting for a few seconds, and looked up to meet Virgil’s eye. Emerald to Mismatched Jewels. It was Roman. 

“Hey Mr.Darkside, I finally found you-,” Roman paused, a befuddled look on his face, “Is that me you’re dancing with?” 

Virgil turned to look back at the other Roman, who had stopped as soon as he saw Roman. His hands were getting increasingly tense around Virgil’s wrists, hard enough to leave bruises. “ Uh, I’m not sure. But uh, might-be-princey, could you let go of me? It kinda hurts.” 

Other Roman simply smirked, and just kept his grip on Virgil. After seeing Virgil’s panicked expression, Roman seemingly pulled a sword from thin air, and pointed it towards the other Roman. 

“Sir, I implore you to release the gentleman you are holding right now.” Roman said while waving the sharp sword around him. “He seems to be very uncomfortable, and the spooky dude asked you to let him go.”

‘Roman’ simply smiled back. “Of **course**, Roman Flamma Prince.” Roman jumped like someone had electrocuted him, a clear sign of discomfort decorating showing on his face. 

“How-how did you find out my middle name?” Roman quietly asked, Virgil searching his face for answers. ‘Roman’ laughed, slyly smiling at the green-eyed boy.

“Well, it **wasn’t** simple, really,” He drawled, “Your hair, the way you act, and the fact that I **didn’t **see you, phoenix.” Blood drained from Roman’s face as ‘Roman’ explained. Virgil was extremely confused, barely able to attempt to understand what was happening. 

“Ladies, ladies, you’re both pretty. Can I go home now?” Virgil joked, trying to defuse the situation. ‘Roman’ whirled around, attention now on him. He smiled, his thumb caressing Virgil’s pale skin from where he had been grabbing it. His touch made Virgil’s skin crawl. 

“Well, I **almost** forgot about you, thank you for reminding me, Virgil.” He pulled Virgil into a low dip, his head almost touching the ground. Staring into the fake man’s eyes at a close distance, he noticed that they were not green. They were a sharp, bold yellow. 

He felt transfixed as ‘Roman’ transformed into half snake, his eyes still a deadly yellow. Scales dripped down the side of the con man’s face, a graceful smirk painting it. But Virgil could not look away from the snakelike yellow eyes that pierced through the air. His thoughts moved sluggishly as he saw Roman panic, almost dropping his sword, and rush over to them. The eyes mesmerized him as the snake leaned closer and closer, long fangs appearing as he opened his mouth. He barely noticed them, focused on the eyes that held him and won’t let go.

A sharp pain in his neck was the first thing he noticed when the sunflower-colored eyes faded from his vision. The second thing was the wetness trickling down his side, a heaviness to it. 

“-can’t just go around biting people Deceit! Especially humans!” He heard what seemed to be Roman shout through the hazy fog. Fingers pressed against his neck, and the flow stopped. 

“Oh, **don’t ** relax, Roman, he **is** actually here.” The calloused fingers paused where they had been wiping away the liquid from his neck. 

“What do you mean?” Roman softly asked, a contrast to the flaming voice he had just seconds ago. The snake’s response didn’t reach Virgil as he stared around the clearing, the trees once again dark and ominous.

The bush above him seemed to loom over him, casting him in dark shadow. The roots that covered the ground snaked over Virgil’s left wrist, reminding him of a certain snake he had just met. His heart rate sped up as the sunlight was sucked out of the forest, leaving Virgil in pitch blackness. The roof of trees seemed to grow thicker and thicker as any remains of light was destroyed.

Why couldn’t he see **Why couldn’t he see- Was he going to die-Ḩ̷̫̝̣͓̐è̸͉͠͠ ̸̬̪̍d̸͉̏̈́̾ͅĩ̸̯͝͝d̷̦̤̻̪̠̄̋͒̊ṋ̵͂ '̷̛̩̩̥̐̈́̍̈́t̵̨̨̤͉̑ ̶̛͕͐ẃ̴̡̹͗̽̈́ä̵̧̡̮̥́n̶̮̝̙̈́̌̇̚t̴̮̣̍ ̷̙̙̩͑̅͌̈t̶͙͔̝͙̀̂͘͝ͅo̴̳͊̅̊̽ ̵̤̩̘̥̠̎̂̈́̿͒d̷͈͖̯̣̿̆̍ì̶̥̣̗̟̗̕e **

**“İ̸̱̟͕̘̲̫͙̖̻̱͕͈̳͕͔͒̄͝ͅ ä̷̢̲͉͈̭̞̳̼̳̻̳̘̣͓̼̩̺͙͕̦̖́̂͜͝m̴̨͙͓̰̠͍̹̃͛͛ ̵̛͚g̶̢̛̙͕̜͎͇̝͙͍̳͚̝̻̳̦̫̣̣̭̼͍͙͙͕͛̏̈́̓̃̀͋̆̎̎͒́̋̒̿̐̿͘͜ͅơ̴̧̭̣̭̩͙̯̣̱̫̼̭̺̝̜̬̰̫͌̑̾̐̓̿̀͐̄͂̏̿̍͐̓͂́̽͜͝͠͝ͅį̸̧̛̛̙̦̭̪̥̼̮͎̭̯̞̖̼͔̫͑̈́̅͌̈́͑͊̐̌̆̌̐̔͘̕̚͝ͅn̷̢̧̡̡̟̹̗̫̳̣̹̝͕̺̯̬͔͕͚͇͖̠̥̺̹͈̈́̀̌̉́̓͑͠g̴̼̝͓̩̪̙̠̟̗̋͛͒̓̋̃̒̓̾̔̈́͂͒̕ ̶͎̭̹͌̈́͐̎̑̈́̔̃̿̋͋͂̽͝͠t̸̢̘͓͈̺̣̰̯̟͇̐́̐͐́̾̏̅͗́͆̒̊̓̂̃́̇͑̾̏̊̏͝͠͝ͅǒ̷̡̡̜̲̣̖̜͇͇̺̻͔̔̒̓̈̆́̋̄̃̍̑͒̓̋̆͆͑͂͝ ̸̬͈̮̬̙̠̹͓̍̏̓̊̀͂̒̈́͒̋͝ḑ̶̣̤̺̱̼̣̫̩̖̖̲͚̪͖̯̰͐͋ͅį̵̡̙͉͍̦̱̖̤̰̠̪̭̈̈́̓͂̔͛͐̕͜͜͜͝ȩ̷̨̖̺̰̠̜͈̗̼͕͕̩͖̲̭̣̳̪̖͓͎̰̋̄̆̎̓̃̊͆̑͑̿̅̍̈́”**

  
  


A hand grabbed his wrist, sucking him out of the pit he was figuratively falling into. He tried to take a breath, it instead coming out as choked gasps, when suddenly voice sliced through the darkness.

“It’s just a dream! Wake up!

“Wake up!”

Virgil shot upwards, sweat dripping off his forehead, heart racing. His eyes were wide, that had felt so realistic. Too realistic. 

He slowly took in his surroundings; he was inside his room. He was not inside of the forest, dark and horrible. The feeling of someone watching him still trailed, and when he closed his eyes, he could still see the yellow eyes burning right through his soul. Shuddering, he felt a phantom pain in his neck, one that stabbed through his nerves. He reached up, rubbing the unbroken skin on his neck, shoulders slumping in relief. His relief was short lived; however; as when he raised his arm, his sleeve fell back, revealing a clean circle of bruises around his pale wrist. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my story!!! <3  
Leave any comments and suggestions you have, or any criticisms(plz be nice tho)!  
There was a reference to a great sander sides fanfic in here, if you get it, you get yummy hug!


	5. No One Believes in Coincidences Except Someone Who is Lying to Themself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enzo and Orion were the kings of a forest, living their happily ever after. But one orange-eyes stranger visiting can change everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!! I’m sorry for the delay, this chapter went through a lot of rewrites.
> 
> Warnings: Slight Description of Burning, Pain, Sword Mention, Reference to Abuse(If you squint)

Janus snuck the dimmed forest, the leaves underfoot shimmering in the moonlight. He walked along a path familiar to him, one that was almost hidden by the tall oak trees. Looking around, the forest at night was elegant. 

The trees gracefully twisted themselves towards the sky like dancers beneath the pale face of the moon. The moonlight traced the slender limbs of the bushes, a delicate image through the harshness of the black night. The painting could only be viewed by those who truly wished to see it, as the darkness only calmed if you would see it for what it truly was. 

He was rapidly approaching the slender tree that fell at the end of the narrow path, eagerly anticipating his arrival. The starlight formed a crown-like shape around the sleeping fey’s head, casting light on the slim figure perched in the tree. The dark, silky curls looked like black feathers in contrast to his moon-kissed face. His midnight wings were loosely wrapped around himself, looking peaceful in the tree. 

“Orion, **don’t **wake up!” He whispered urgently to the fey. Eyes the color of the night sky popped open, frantic, but calm after seeing Enzo smiling. 

“ J, why are you waking me up now? It’s currently 1:05 in the morning.” Orion questioned, a tilt to his head. Janus simply grinned, and grabbed his hand, pulling him through the forest. 

“Janus! Where are we going?” Orion frantically said, worried, but with an amused squint to his eyes. His low-cut skirt barely scraped the ground as they ran off the path. 

“You **won’t **see soon,” Janus slyly responded, a cocky grin coating his face. Orion chuckled, and allowed the other fey to pull him through the trees. He took the time to admire his beloved, who was clearly excited for what he was about to show Orion. With scales the color of honey dripping down a blade of grass, Janus was stunning. With his lavish style and smooth talk, it had been no wonder that Orion had fallen for him.

Right now, Janus’s eyes reflected the stars overhead, and Orion swore there where more in his eyes than the whole sky. Besides, it gave him a reason to stare into his lemon-colored eyes. 

As the branches in front of them slowly fell away, Orion could see a clearing ahead.

“Okay darling, we’re** not** here!” Janus delightedly said.

Looking up at the sky, Orion sucked in a breath, stunned. Above him were thousands of stars, glittering in shades of yellow and white, all so close, yet so far away, They demanded the sky, the peaceful navy blue fading back for them. The moon shone bright above them, and the light gently glowed throughout the clearing, Orion reached up for them, longing to see them, the stars that fascinated him to no ends. 

“You know, Orio, it **isn’t ** amazing how you **don’t ** have the same reaction every time you see them,” He hummed, gently stroking Orion’s wing, “It **isn’t **cute at all.” 

Orion whirled around, the wing flying out of Janus’s hand, him bleping angrily in return. He pouted, arms crossed. 

“ I am not cute.” Orion complained, scrunching up his nose in disgust. “ I am serious!”

Janus laughed at his adorable temper tantrum, which consisted of stomping his foot and huffing. “Like I **didn’t ** say, star, you **aren’t **cute.” Orion just gave the most crumpled pout ever, and his laughter turned hysterical. He went over to Orion, nearly crying with laughter, and booped him on the nose. 

“Alright star, **don’t **you want to dance?” Janus said, elegantly extending a gloved hand from beneath his yellow-lined cloak. Orion just smiled shyly in return and his wings tucked playfully around him. 

Janus gently swayed with Orion, their bodies moving with the sounds of the forest. It was true music, if you cared to listen. The wind swirled through the trees, gently brushing the leaves. Crickets chirped, blending the melody with the owls. Through all of this was the sound of stillness; a sound that laid beneath all the layers of the soft music, one that blanketed the forest on calm nights. 

Orion tucked his head underneath Janus’s chin, content to let Enzo lead his in gentle circles. The grass tickled beneath their bare feet, smooth against their hardened soles. The cape that Janus had made for Orion was tangled with Janus’s, a blur of blue and yellow. 

Janus happily stared down at Orion, who currently was wrapping his wings around both of them. The dark wings were a cool black, and if you looked carefully, you could see deep blues and faded purples, giving the appearance of the night sky. 

Orion was breathtaking in the moonlight, the stars themselves pooling in his eyes. His white button down was sharp, and reflected white onto Orion, painting him as a star. His long navy skirt faded at the end, worn. As he looked up at Janus, passion glowing in his eyes, he could not think of anything but the fact that he had a star in his arms. 

A yawn broke through Janus’s thoughts, and he saw his starlight rub shamefully at his face. He grabbed the shorter fey’s hands, letting him drop back farther. 

“Oh, is someone **not **tired, my star?” Janus grinned, looking down at the fey who smirked in return. 

“Yes, sunlight, I am not tired.” He smiled smugly, watching Janus huff in annoyance before tackling Orion to the ground.

“ J!” He shrieked as Janus sat on his waist and began running his fingers over his stomach. “That tickles!” 

Janus only winked in return, before poking his belly button. “That **isn’t **the point, dear.” Orion’s eyes widened in horror as the others fingers trailed teasingly through the air before plunging towards his stomach. 

“PLEASE!” He choked out between bolts of laughter. “HAVE- HEHEHE- MERCY!” Orion squirmed helplessly as Janus continued his attack, unable to move with Janus on his waist. A high pitched shriek was produced by Orion before falling in deep laughter. 

Janus smiled as his love became increasingly red in his face, a smile stretched over it. Laughter like soft chimes fell frown Orion’s open mouth, stealing the spotlight from the night sounds. When Orion laughed, the world paused, the stars shining a little brighter in the sky, the dewy leaves glimmering a little more. The night breeze stopped, holding its breath, letting the sound of pure happiness tumble softly through the air.

Janus dropped his fingers from Orion’s side when the normally snow-painted face was the color of a phoenix’s wings. Janus curled up on Orion’s right side, soft hair pressed into Orion’s arm, listening to his raspy breaths.

Orion’s fingers slowly caressed his head, causing Janus to blep happily before burrowing deeper in Orion’s arm. 

“You are one cute snake, J.” Orion murmured, staring at his scales, which seem to have reflected the entire night sky in them.

“Uhm,” Janus muttered sleepily, “Hey star, do- do that thing with the stars.” Orion smiled fondly at his curled up love, cuddled up happily next to Orion. He was tired enough that he didn’t lie, a level that was only reached by pets. 

“Dear, you’re going to have to be awake if you want to see them.” Orion paused, watching Enzo’s eyes grumpily open.

“I am awake, Ri,” Janus mumbled, eyes sliding shut again. “You’re just asleep.” Orion let at a soft chuckle, before staring at the sky.

Relaxing, Orion’s eyes became unfocused, seeing everything in front of him but nothing. Reaching towards the sky, he felt a small tingle of warmth in his hand before his entire hand was covered with it. His wings were no longer on the ground, but stretched out on his sides. They seemed to absorb the colors of the sky, turning from dark black to a galaxy of colors; dark, mysterious purple; rich, smooth blue; spots of muted pink and other small colors. His pupils had seemed to fill with stars, glimmering and shining with the hope of a million stars. From his hand trailed a trace of the sky. 

“Mother Nature, I love you, Ri.” Janus said, not looking at his hand but the stars in his eyes that painted light across everyone. Orion hummed, busy with the starlight, and pushed his hands to spread it out. A miniature version of the sky above him appeared, stars dancing across the sky, comets zipping through like a wanderer who couldn’t stay. 

“You see that! That’s the big dipper!” Orion rambled. “It’s the pattern that looks like a spoon, over there.” He said, taking his hand and pointing towards it. Janus watched as Orion glowed with passion, talking about how the universe became with a big bang. He knew everything about space, but nothing compared to feeling part of that beautiful, complex system. Nothing, except maybe Janus, could compete with the love he was blanketed with out there. 

“- comes a comet, J, look-!” Orion was surprised to be stopped mid-ramble by Janus leaning forwards for a gentle kiss. It felt like soft midnight dances through the forests, warm discussions through the day, trust. It felt like a star had pressed itself against his lips and he would gladly melt away if it stayed. 

Sadly, Janus had broken the kiss, and smiled at him tenderly. “I-“ He took a breath and cleared his throat, “ I lo-ove you, my star.” 

Orion just smiled at his beloved honesty, as it was extremely hard for him not to lie, as he was cursed. 

“Dear, I might be your star, but you’re my whole galaxy.” 

———-

A snake lounged over a threaded wood throne, yellow topazes poking out from the braid. Around the throne were other fey that sat and chattered in the noon sun. The sun shone high in the sky, reflecting light off the crown sitting on his head. It was made of midnight colored stone, and even with the forest bursting with light the crown absorbed it. The fey grinned, a lazy smile at the joke the man on his right had told. He was sitting in a chair next to him, almost as decked out with gems as the snake’s. The other fey had sleek black wings that were folded against his back. 

“-I’m telling you, J, the robins are where you need to go if you want to find ‘gossip’.” The indigo-dressed man adamantly said, his fingers tracing the snake’s hand, a calm sensation. 

“Orion!” The man gasped in mock offense, hands flying to his mouth. “Glass houses!” Orion cracked a smile, leaning back and humming. 

“What can I say, we’re all gossipy bitches sometimes.” Orion smirked, drawing a laugh from the other’s smooth face. He nodded in agreement, and reached over to play with Orion’s hair. 

“Janus,” The fey grumbled, “I got to maintain some sort of reputation.” Janus only grinned wider before pulling Orion towards him for a tender kiss. 

After a moment, Orion pulled away, pouting. “ J!” Enzo chuckled. “My reputation!” 

Janus simply placed his fingers under his chin, and said, “What reputation?” Orion leaned back, dramatic, but pulled himself into a stoic expression. 

A slow clap drew their attention away from each other. A fey stood in front of them,darkly dressed with a sarcastic smirk on their face. Janus’s face twitched with annoyance over being interrupted, but a look of confusion was drawn over it. The mysterious fey had stopped clapping, and now waited impatiently for the king to speak. Their orange eyes flicked upwards to meet Orion’s, and a slight smile worked itself over their tanned skin. The fey that were around them had frozen, waiting in anticipation to see who the stranger was. The guards had drawn themselves up, watching to see any signals from the king. 

“We **do ** get many visitors.” Janus said, drawing himself up fully, His fingers idly grazed the arms of the throne. “Who **aren’t **you?” 

The other fey simply smiled, baring sharply pointed canines. “Well if it isn’t the the King of Lies. As for who I am,” They paused, checking their nails, “I am simply a traveler passing by.”

Janus huffed, irritated in the way the other so smoothly avoided his question, Orion layed a warning hand on Janus’s arm, which had become increasingly tense. He relaxed his death grip on the throne, which had led to the stones almost cutting into his skin. Orion gave him a look that said that he would take care of this. 

“Excuse me, I think he means to ask why are you here, traveler.” Orion stated, determinedly staring into the orange fire eyes, which coldly looked back, a contrast to the color.

“I do respect your boldness, raven. But my business here has nothing to do with you,” They said in a blunt tone. “But it might as well.” 

Orion narrowed his eyes, watching the stranger’s face, which still gave away nothing, “I implore to ask what that means.” 

The stranger sighed, and lifted up his hand, rubbing their face. Their hands were covered with yellow gloves that they now reached to pull off. Janus grabbed Orion’s hand, tightening protectively.

“You seem like someone worth knowing.” The stranger said, walking forward towards the couple. They gently grabbed Orion’s right hand, seemingly in a handshake. 

“I hope that you know that I am sorry, raven.” Orion’s eyes widened with panic as he wondered what the traveler had met. He tried to rip his hand out of the others, but it only tightened. Janus stood up, eyes angered at the sight of the other manhandling his love. The guards snapped to attention, rushing towards them, but were stopped by an unseen barrier.

“Not for what I am about to do, only for you.” And with that being said, he flung Orion out of his seat into the blueberry bushes behind him. Janus reached forwards, eyes glowing with anger, a bright yellow that pierced the darkest of nights. The other had grabbed a flask out of their bag, the liquid inside angrily swishing. Janus reached for his sword, drawing out a long, strong piece of steel that could snap a tree in half. The other simply tisked, and waited as Janus lunged towards them with his weapon, then threw the flask at his feet and jumped backwards.

The flask exploded, yellow mist seeping out, crawling over the ground, turning the bright green grass into a sickly yellow. It shot towards Janus, who was scrambling to get away, but the tendrils of smoke reached out and circled him. Janus screamed in pain as the smoke burned his skin, leaving an acrid scent in the air,

Orion stirred from where he had been thrown, eyes widening. He ran towards his love only to be grabbed by the stranger, spun around to face the orange eyed fey. The guards had been trying to break through the barrier, but it seemed to keep only Janus, Orion, and the traveler inside. 

“You can’t save him, little bird.” A voice whispered into his ear as he struggled to get away. “He’ll be fine. But changed.” Orion’s eyes widened at the last remark as he ripped one of his arms free from the stranger, reaching towards Janus, who was writhing on the ground. 

His scales were on fire, as the smoke seemed to penetrate the thick layer of scales and into the skin below. Orion met Janus’s eyes, both tortured; Orion by having to watch as his love suffered, and Janus as the mist burned his body and mind. His eyes pleaded with Orion, emotions flickering across them quicker than Orion could tell. Orion twisted in the stranger’s grip, their grip tightening with every moment. His wings fluttered frantically behind him, shooting out in all directions as Orion panicked. yellow mist burned through Janus’s eyes, glowing brighter and brighter until Orion could not stand to meet them. Then the grip around his wrists loosened and everything went black. 

Opening his eyes, he blinked out the fuzziness that danced around his vision. A dark figure stood before him, scales covering the left side of his face. It was Janus.

Orion quickly stood, brushing off the grass that decorated his skirt. “Are you alright, Janus?” He asked, taking a closer look at the fey before him. Janus looked fine, his classic smirk draped over his face, a small twinkle in his eyes as he nodded. But Orion knew Janus. And something wasn’t right.

His scales had changed from a beautiful golden color, like sunflowers at noon, to a mottled green. His snake eye was more pronounced with its pale red bags, and continued to glow yellow even as the other one died down. Looking closer, he say a faint red line that continued across the scales like a demented smile. The grin covering his face seemed more like a leer, especially with the fact that the other’s eyes seemed to scan him up and down impatiently. Everything that made Janus himself was slightly off, even the way he held himself, like it was an act. 

“I’m **fine** , Orion,” He drawled pulling up the yellow gloves that Orion had not noticed before as they were hidden under his sleeves. “Why don’t we **not** go back to my place to **not** relax?” Orion noticed the fact that the taller fey had lied more than usual, but passed it on as nerves. He let the other grab his hand, almost too tight, and pull him away from the crowds and towards the center of the forest.

They walked briskly towards the cave that served as Janus’s home. As they passed, animals would suddenly go quiet, as if a predator was walking nearby. The sun hid behind the treetops, giving the image of a silent, dark forest, tension rolling high. Orion tripped over what appeared to be a small root, and caught himself, stumbling. A few paces later, something swerved near his feet before striking out at his ankles. Orion cried out in pain, and Janus turned around, dropping the almost bruising grip on his wrist. 

“Are you **not **alright, Orion?” Janus hurriedly asked, eyes widening when he saw the snake bite on his ankle. Orion wiped the golden liquid that started to drip down from the wound. 

“I’m fine, my star,” Orion responded, grimacing when he touched it again. “It’s not life-threatening, I just might need help walking.” Janus nodded, the concern dropping from his eyes for a split second before he grabbed Orion’s waist and pulled him along.

As they fell into a comfortable rhythm, Orion couldn’t shake the appearance of the snake from his mind. A coal-black snake was the one that bit him, but it flicked its head upwards for just a moment. In contrast to the black, it’s eyes were gold like a full sunflower. Gold like eyes that sparkled just ahead of him, eyes that were now slightly controlled.

That couldn’t mean anything, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!! I hope you enjoyed my story so far!!!!  
If you have any comments, suggestions, or just want to talk, leave a comment below! I will respond, please I’m lonely.


	6. Dreams are Only as Real as You Make Them Out to Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~high school time owo~  
logan loves his friends Patton and Roman  
he also loves Virgil, and is a bit gay.  
A lot gay and gay panic commences  
Wait! Roman! Is that regular panic  
Oh no! He can’t hear us his airpods are in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for disappearing, it be like that sometimes  
Warnings: Snakey boi, nightmare  
(I swear i reduced the angst but i need some for plot)  
Reference: “The Heartbreaker” by Bianca Phillips

A warm breeze shuddered over the treetops as a raven silently flew. It didn’t know where it was going, not exactly. It just wanted out.

It could remember hazy memories that always faded when the stars were close. It could remember something, a loved one screaming and then it was running, running. Then it was flying again; it hadn’t flown in so long.

The stars glittered overhead, it’s dark figure skimming the treetops. The breath of air tickled its feathers, and the raven swooped up to stare at the stars. It felt part of the stars up here; more important than anything it had been before. The stars gently shone; the warmth flowing through its thin bones. They were so beautiful.

The raven snapped out of its trance, and noticed the colors that swirled below. A faint yellow fog clung to the trees, delicately swirling in the air. It’s eyes fixed on the mist, curiously scanning the mist. The trees around it seemed to wilt a little as the mist thickened, denser than anything it had seen yet so fragile.

The mist entranced the raven. It barely noticed how it’s wings sluggishly cut through the air, losing momentum. It didn’t notice the logical side of its brain pounding against yellow bars, it’s screams lost in the raven’s building heartbeat, a steady drum in his ears.

Too late for that, the raven thought, grimly accepting that he was going to fall down back into the place he had so desperately tried to escape. He could see the edge of the forest, the clear grass fields ahead and if he went just a little farther-

A man fell from the sky, thinking ironically how his wings looked like they were on fire as he fell into the sea of cloying fog. The last thing he could see as he hit the ground was a smirk and two glowing eyes, the same shade as the venomous yellow behind them.

“Oh little bird, you didn’t think you could get away from me that easily~”

_Icarus would have just as soon drowned._

——

Logan woke up in a cold sweat, his short hair plastered to his pale forehead. He stared up at his star-covered ceiling, the space not comforting him as it usually would. His heart filled with a sudden bittersweet longing, aching at the sight of the sky that was so close, yet so far.

He had been a bird, soaring through the skies on a warm updraft. He felt free, able to almost brush the heavens. Logan shuddered, as he now felt weighed down to the ground with unbreakable chains. He had flown through the stars and towards the moon and-

He

Fell

Down.

The soft morning glow had started to look menacing with its golden light. Sunflower tendrils stroked through the air inches from Logan, taunting him.

The soft blanket he had on top of him was too much as he sweated. The blanket felt imprisoning, as constricting as a possessive hug. The air was too warm, hot like a sharp edged smile, cracking at its corners.

He threw off the blanket, feeling his shoulders droop in relief. He could feel his sleep-warmed skin start to cool, a little feverish at first. Logan took a deep breath, watching his chest rise and fall in the morning air.

Closing his eyes, he relaxed for a second, and opened them. The caramel glow seemed a little more melted, and Logan peacefully settled back to sleep.

OoOoOoO

“Lo-lo~” His dad sang, tumbling into the room, a bright smile stretched across his face. Logan groaned, but sat up and sloppily grabbed for his glasses.

“Are you... looking for those, Lo?” Emile grinned, Logan just giving his dad a deadpan stare, finally getting his glasses. “Up! Up! We’ve got a big day!”

Logan yawned, tired from the early morning nightmare. Grumbling, he said, “ Don’t you mean I’ve got a big day? All you and Re have to do is drive me.”

Emile straightened his tie, and smiled at Logan. “Lo, it’s your first day of high school! It’s my big day too!”

Logan swiftly turned around, fixing Emile with a withering gaze. “Don’t you dare try to take any pictures. No pictures. Zero. Null. Zéro.”

“What?” Emile called, pedaling backwards out of the door so fast that he almost fell. “Sorry! Can’t hear you!”

Logan just rolled his eyes in return, watching his dad close the door. He grabbed his reliable black polo and jeans, and hesitated before throwing on his new light blue tie. He calmly walked down the stairs, and nearly jumped when Remy popped out next to him.

“Lo! Happy first-day-of-school, blah blah,” Remy grinned, sipping his coffee. He glanced around nervously, and then dropped his voice to a whisper. “Okay. I want to know all of the tea. When you get home, tell me if you see any cute boys!”

Logan rolled his eyes fondly. In a monotone voice, he stated, “Re, I am straight.” Cue to Remy choking on his iced tea, it dripping down his chin.

A smile cracked on his face, him trying (and failing) to stay serious.“I’m about as straight as anyone in this house, Re, which is about as straight as you trying to draw a line while drunk.”

Remy huffed, eyes crinkling with amusement. He called out into the kitchen, dramatically wailing. “Emmmmmmm! I’m being picked on! By my own child!”

Emile popped his around the corner, raising his eyebrow. “Well you deserve it, you asked him about cute guys and you know how you are.”

Remy let loose an offended gasp, clutching his chest. “Betrayed by my own husband!” Emile, laughing, walked around the corner and kissed Remy affectionately on the check. Logan wrinkled his nose in disgust and went towards the kitchen. His dad had cooked waffles for breakfast, knowing they were Logan’s favorite. He quickly sat down and grabbed the Crofters, smearing it on the hot waffles.

Remy walked in, a giggling Emile in his arms, and gasped. “Hey! How dare you start breakfast without us!”

Logan quickly replied in turn. “How dare you? How old are you, five?” Remy put down Emile and sat next to Logan, who was rolling his eyes. Logan, checking his watch, realized that they were going to be late and quickly snarfed down the rest of his waffles.

He grabbed his backpack and called out behind him to his parents. “Well, it seems that I am going to have to take the bus, so goodbye.” He heard a chair squeak behind him and footsteps running.

“Wait!” Emily yelled. “I have to take pictures!” Logan increased his pace towards the door, hearing Remy laugh.

“Don’t you have enough pictures, Em?” Remy called out, still sitting at the table. Emile spun around, a pout clear on his face.

“But Rem! Memorieeees!” He whined. Remy patted the others head, an affectionate look on his face. Logan smiled as he watched his parents before closing the front door, heading towards the bus stop.

The warm September day filled the air with vibrancy, the colors bursting with life. He saw a raven swoop down from a wire and was filled with a sense of familiarity. His dream, or nightmare, from last night had involved a raven, but he couldn’t really remember much else. A yellow school bus interrupted his thoughts with a loud squeak, and he braced himself for impact.

With much regret for not having his parents drive him, he climbed onto the school bus, sitting down in an open seat. He popped his earbuds in, blocking out the building noise. He grabbed his Agatha Christie book, reading it while the bus jerked and screeched.

He was interrupted by someone sliding in next to him, a darkly clothed boy. He glanced over, eyebrow raised, and popped out his earbud.

“Look, there were no other empty seats, okay?” The purple haired guy spoke gruffly, sliding further into his hoodie.

Logan merely shrugged in return, and went back to his book. He was distracted though, and shut his book with frustration. He leaned his head back on the gray seat, wrinkling his nose from the acrid smell. The town seemed quiet, as if it was holding its breath.

The bus jerked, wrenching Logan forward, almost into the seat in front of them. He sighed, and grabbed his earbuds and phone, and placed them deep in his bag. He stood up, scanning the chattering crowd, and frowned, tired already.

He walked into the school, pulling out the folded schedule out of his pocket. He scanned it, and then put it away. He saw the crowds of people smile and giggle as they found their old friends. He saw the ever popular Maddie Dunnkoff with an arm wrapped around her waist, one of the jocks. He wrinkled his nose as they noticed him, and turned their heads, whispering.

Opening his locker, he internally groaned as he noticed a card sitting in it. It was from his friend, Patton, and he slipped it in his binder to read later. But for now, as the bell shook his ears with an ear-splitting screech, he walked briskly to English.

“Alright class, settle down.” The teacher said, smiling. “My name is Mx. Walker. I’m sure it’ll be a pleasure having you all in my class.” Logan sat up straight, watching the English teacher. They had brown hair that faded in pink at the ends, and were even shorter than his dad, Emile.

“I feel that high schoolers are a little more mature than middle schoolers, so I’ll let you pick your seats.”

They grinned, and went to sit back down at their desk. Logan glanced around, standing up. He saw a flock of girls immediately grab his old seat, and other people group up.

He could only recognize a few people in this class, like Dominic, an acquaintance from math last year. He sighed and headed towards the back of the room, where he could see only the boy he sat next to this morning. The other was focused on his notebook.

Clearing his throat, he fidgeted with his glasses. “Uh, would it be acceptable if I sat next to you? There is no other space in the classroom, besides next a few…’meatheads’.” The other snorted, and patted the seat next to him.

“Yea man, it’s fine.” The boy said, and Logan places his things next to him. He turned sideways, his ribs twisting uncomfortably.

Sticking out his hand, Logan spoke. “Greetings, I am Logan. What is your name?” The boy sighed, and turned to look at Logan.

“My name’s Virgil. Also, specs, who says greetings anymore?” He grinned, but then shrank back a little, scratching the back of his neck. “Not that it’s bad, or anything.” He flushed, clearly uncomfortable, not that Logan noticed.

Logan was too busy trying to clear his brain, it filled (how had Remy said it?) ‘gay panic’. The other had a snow colored face, and dark brown hair that shimmered in contrast. A delicate smirk had rested on his face before slipping away like a dancer in the night. What caught Logan’s eye the most was his multicolored eyes, one a deep green, and the other a shining violet. They sat like jewels in his face, and- Logan really needed to stop being gay and respond.

Trying to clear his reddening face, he replied. “Virgil? Like the Roman poet? That’s fascinating.” He saw the other flush even more, and mutter something that he could not hear. He focused back to the front, and tuned into his teacher’s discussion. After class had ended, he turned back to Virgil, intent on asking him something.

“Would you like to join me at lunch?” He asked, watching Virgil’s face for a reaction. “My friends Patton and Roman will be sitting with us.” Virgil’s shoulders relaxed subconsciously, and he gave a hum in acknowledgment.

“Sure,” He grabbed his things and flashed finger guns to Logan. “See you later, L!”

OoOoOoO

“LOGAN!” A voice screeched with delight before a blue poof slammed into him. A soft ‘oof’ left him as he blinked his eyes, clearing his vision. He looked up, seeing Patton eagerly hugging him, the other’s glasses almost entirely off of his face.

“I missed you Lo!” Patton smiled sheepishly, Logan rolling his eyes fondly in return.

“Patton, we had just hung out a few days ago. That does not mean you get to tackle me in the middle oF-“ Logan’s words were cut off by someone else throwing themselves at him, this time knocking him off balance.

He steadied himself, face pressed against a white and gold jacket.

“Roman, what did I just say?” He said, annoyed, the other smirking in response. Roman twirled in his infuriating white jacket (“I told you it isn’t a practical garment!” “It isn’t! It is a princely garment, not like that oversized tie” “fAlSeHoOd it is NOT oversized”) before grabbing Logan’s wrist and leading him to their table.

Logan cleared his throat, adjusting his tie nervously. “Um, I invited someone to sit with us at lunch today, if that is acceptable. Their name is Virgil.”

Patton’s eyes lit up with recognition, and he clapped his hands with excitement. “Virgil? I know him, he’s in my creative writing class. He’s really good, but a little spooky.”

Roman sighed, clapping a hand on Patton’s back. “Padre, did you adopt him already?” Patton just giggled in response, and grabbed his sandwich. Logan rolled his eyes fondly, and grabbed his own jelly sandwich. After a few bites, he saw the lanky purple haired boy slowly approach. He pointed him out to Patton, who started waving frantically. Virgil sat down, a nervous look on his face.

“Uh hi, I’m Virgil.” A grimace flashed across his face before he saw Patton smiling.

“Hi Virgil! You’re in a couple of my classes, right?” Patton grinned, and Virgil nodded slowly. Logan watched the two of them engage in tentative conversation, and interjected every once in a while. Though the conversation was comfortable, something was missing. Something loud, someone like-

Roman, Logan thought. He turned around to where Roman was sitting next to him, and watched the normally hyperactive boy sit still.

A strange look was placed on his face, his eyes clouded. He followed his gaze, and noticed he was staring intensely at Virgil.

Logan elbowed him, watching Roman snap out of a trancelike state. “Roman, you ‘gucci’?” Roman weakly grinned, and pushed back playfully.

“Yea, Microsoft Nerd, I’m fine. I just...recognize Virgil from somewhere, probably just seen him around the school.” Roman replied, a smile plastered on his face that seemed fake even to Logan.

Virgil had turned around at the sound of his name, and finally noticed Roman. They both had stared at each other for a moment, recognition clear in their eyes before Virgil broke the silence.

“You good, princey? You seemed a little...out of it.” Virgil said, face twisting with concern. “I just have the feeling that you are more...extra.” Roman laughed, and grandly threw his arms about.

“Well you’re right about one thing, emo nightmare, and that is the fact that I am as extra as they come.” He said, placing inflection on extra with a snap of his fingers.

Virgil stared back, clearly unimpressed. “Whatever you say, Sir-Sings-A-Lot.” The other gasped before a thoughtful expression covered his face.

“Well jokes on you, I actually like that name! Hah!” Roman grinned, triumphant. Virgil sat there for a moment, before a snide grin covered his face.

“Whatever you say, Princey.” Cue to Roman’s over dramatic gasp, flopping onto the table. Logan had seen something else shining through, for just a second before Roman’s superior acting skills took over.

It took Logan the rest of lunch to figure out what he had seen on Roman’s face.

Heartbreak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Leave a comment or suggestion, or like any theories!
> 
> plz
> 
> So, who wants to see how the extrovert gays met the tiny nerd gay!  
I do


	7. Memories Only Go One Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was 4th grade when Patton first wore a skirt to school.
> 
> It was 4th grade when Patton learned what faggot meant.
> 
> It was 4th grade when Logan got his first and only suspension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Homophobic language, Bullying, Physical Violence, Verbal Harassment, School doing n o t h i n g, Logan being a badass, Cursing

Patton was happily sitting on the swings, waiting for Roman to come outside. His mom has finally let him wear a skirt to school, and he couldn’t wait to show Roman! It was a light blue color the same as the sky, and floated gently down to his knees as the swingset creaked. 

He happily sat there, watching his skirt fly in the wind, watching a few older boys approach.   
He could see that they were staring at them, and his smile dimmed a little as they laughed, snide grins clearly pointed towards him. Confused, he slowed his swing, watching the group swagger over to him.

“Hey, faggot!” An older boy snidely yelled, a cruel expression painted on his face. “Did your mommy dress you in that?” 

Patton’s face crinkled, for just a moment. He plastered on a smile, ignoring the building tension in front of him. “Well, that’s not my name, kiddo! It’s Patton!” He dug his feet into the ground, spraying wood chips. “What’s yours?”

The group of boys laughed, in a too-loud way that made Patton’s ears hurt. He saw the smirk building on the boy in the front, and anxiously looked around for Roman. Patton wasn’t stupid. He knew that the boys were probably not so...nice, but maybe they were just confused or something! 

Patton’s stomach gurgled uneasy, and it drew the boy’s attention. He crudely smiled, and then asked, “What are you like, hungry? Because for a fag like you, I’d be glad to give you a knuckle sandwich.” The boys laughed at his remark, and Patton swallowed nervously as the boys took another step forward. 

Patton slid off the swing, his smile still covering his face. “Well kiddo, that was a good joke. I’d give you a Pat- on the back for that one.” The boy’s smirk dropped, and annoyance flickered over it. He took another step forward, then another. Patton still was unsure what the boy wanted, but he was getting too close for Patton to be comfortable. 

Patton stepped backwards with him, and started wondering if Roman would ever come out. It was when his back hit the scratchy brick wall when he realized too late that these boys were not misunderstood. In fact, they were understood too well. 

Patton watched as the boy in a green jacket raised his hand, curling it into a fist. His smile dropped for a second as he saw the blow incoming. He flinched backwards with it, head hitting the wall. An involuntary groan flew from his mouth, and he covered it as the boys laughed.

Wincing as he saw that his glasses were broken, he slowly inches towards freedom. A boy almost twice his height moved to block him. He patted his face tenderly, feeling the shards of glass missing from the glasses, and the bruised area around his eye. 

Raising his hands, he calmly said, “Now, kiddos, I’m sure that we could talk about this! Violence is never the answer.”

The boys merely scoffed in return, and one pressed his hand into Patton’s chest, leaning forward. “As if we would talk with a fag like you.” Terrified, he closed his eyes, bracing for a blow that never came.

A new voice spoke, one that seemed younger.   
“Excuse me, I believe he is uncomfortable. Would you mind leaving, or do I need to resort to violence to get it through your thick skull?” Patton, opening his eyes in confusion, saw a boy his age standing next to him. 

He wore glasses, and a tie that he adjusted while he spoke. When he turned around to glance at Patton, he saw midnight blue eyes that sharply shone, melting a little at the corners when he looked at Patton.

The boy that had been pinning Patton grinned and stepped forward towards the new boy. The tie-wearing boy was undeterred, though, and held his ground. 

“Did you even hear what I just said? Vacate his personal space.” The glasses-wearing boy furrowed his brow with frustration, and stepped in front of Patton. The boy scowled in annoyance, and swiftly striked out, intending to shatter his glasses. What he was not intending was for the nerdy boy to catch his fist and throw it out, brushing it off like it was nothing. 

“Now leave, or I will be forced to resort to violence.” The boy who threw the punch still looked hesitant to listen, but Patton heard the dead seriousness in his voice. Glancing forward, he saw the boy step forwards, puffing his chest out. 

“Yea right,” He scoffed, smirking at the smaller boy. “There’s nothing you could do about it.” The other boy simply adjusted his glasses, a calm expression resting on his face. 

“I could simply tell the teachers, who would not be glad that you had punched someone, especially someone younger than you.” The older boy laughed, throwing a knowing look back at his crowd of followers.

A snide grin stole over, and he responded. “Oh, what? You are going to go run to mommy?” Taunting, he looked the other dead in the eye. “Oh that’s right, you just have those fags of dads. I guess the Sanders family is full of cowards, huh?” The Sanders boy froze, before his face reddened. 

Looking, Patton saw his pale fingers curled into a fist, shaking. His face hardened, and the taller boy barely had time to react before the younger boy’s fist collided with his face.

Pulling himself back, the nerd took a deep breath. The tie-wearing kid calmly said, so calm that Patton could barely tell he was even angry anymore. “Now, could you kindly leave us? I would appreciate it.”   
The other boy removed his hand from his face, and Patton could see blood trickling down from his nose. 

Stepping forward and taking hold of Patton’s shirt in one move, the bloodied kid responded, “Actually, we are not done with him. After all, we haven’t finished...talking to him.” With that he punched Patton in the stomach, causing him to fall backwards. Vomit rose in his throat, but he swallowed it back down.

Looking up, he saw Sanders standing in front of him, throwing punches at the kid who had punched Patton. The boy stood in front of him, eyes blazing, like a summer night sky full of electricity. His stance was defensive and defiant, and Patton knew that he would never see him as short, no matter the reality. 

He moved with inhumane speed, blocking punches from 2 guys. He lashed out, kneeing a boy to the right of him in the head, causing him to drop backwards. 

Blood trickled down from a bust lip, contrasting with snow-white skin. Patton felt his face flush involuntarily as he watched the kid in front of him fight kids double his height. 

“Excuse me!” Patton’s head shot to the side, seeing a teacher running over. “What is going on?” The boys immediately stopped fighting, and Logan calmly adjusted his tie as he watched the teacher approach. 

Logan opened his mouth, ready to defend Patton and him. “I found this boy being assaulted by them, so I asked them to vacate themselves from his personal space. They refused to leave, and taunted us verbally when I continued. They then continued to attack us physically, so I responded in kind to protect us.”

The teacher stood speechless for a second, not used to someone being so direct. “...Thank you, Logan. I’m going to have to ask all of you to escort yourselves to the office. No fighting is tolerated in Foster Hollow elementary.” 

Logan turned around, holding his hand out for Patton who sat breathing heavily on the ground. Grabbing Logan’s hand, he pulled himself up towards him. 

“Uh..thank you for helping me back there.” Patton said, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “I don’t think I could’ve convinced them to just walk away. My name’s Patton, by the way.”

Logan blushed, and pushed up his glasses. “It was nothing. Any decent person would have done the same thing.” He fidgeted with the bottom of his shirt, looking down. 

Patton looked at him, and then gently said, “Well, no one else did.” Logan stood speechless for a second, before holding his hand out to Patton. 

“Well,” He said, a slightly mischievous look covering his face for a split second, “It’s time to...face the music, as they say.” 

Patton took Logan’s hand, and smiled. “I don’t know about you, Teach, but I don’t see any music out here!” 

Patton smiled as Logan groaned, annoyance on his face but a smile in his eyes. 

———————  
“3 day suspension. That’s final, Mr. Sanders.” The principal said firmly, leaning back in his chair. Patton sat next to Logan and both of their parents, watching Logan’s dad with the sunglasses- Remy huff in frustration. 

Emile, the one with the pink tie, leaned forward, a calm look on his face. “Well, Mr. Swank, my son only resorted to physical violence once he was provoked and once they continued to physically harass Patton. He was defending his friend.” The principal sighed at Emile’s words, running his fingers through his hair. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Sanders, there’s nothing I can do about it. The school’s No Tolerance rule-“

“Ok, babe, I get that,” Remy continued, a slight smirk at the Principals gaping mouth. “But what happened to the other kids? Huh?” 

The principal looked down, slightly hunching his shoulders. “3 day suspension.” 

The room erupted with both Patton’s mom’s and Logan’s dads’ yelling, all voices filled with outrage. 

“My son was doing nothing wrong!”

“Can you please calm down-“

“This is bullshit! (“Language, Rem!”)”

The principal threw his hands out, pleading with the parents to calm down. “Look, the decision is final. Both sides of the fight are treated equally. There’s nothing I can do.” Patton looked over at Logan, watching his eyes harden as Logan raised his hand, wanting to speak.

The principal looked over. “Uh, yes, Mr. Sanders?”

“Well, why is Patton here? He is the victim in this circumstance. Should you not be trying to prevent this from happening again?” 

The principal swallowed nervously, before glancing over to Patton’s mom. “Well, Mrs. Hart-“

“Ms. Hart.” Patton’s mom cut in, face hardening.

Mr. Swank paused before speaking again. “Well, Ms. Hart, there's nothing I can do about that. Unfortunately, if Mr. Hart continues dressing like that, he might as well be asking for it.”

Patton felt his face go bright red with shame, and he scrunched down in his seat. He covered his skirt with his hands, barely hearing both his mom’s and Logan’s parents outraged accusations. 

He stared down at his hands, focusing on the barely visible handprint decorating his right hand. Patton hadn’t meant to do all of this, he had just wanted to wear a skirt. And now he had gotten everyone in trouble and his mom was mad and it was all his fault. 

He hadn’t realized how tightly he had been clenching his skirt until Logan gently pried his hands off of it. Logan gave him a small smile that seemed to light up the whole office, making the tight feeling in his chest unwind a bit. 

“Hey, don’t listen to him. He is just spouting heteronormative nonsense.” Patton watched as a faint blush fell across Logan’s face. “Besides, Patton, I think that your skirt is nice. Do not stop wearing something you obviously enjoy because of that block-headed man.” Patton gave a weak giggle at Logan’s uncharacteristically informal description. 

Patton noticed Logan studying him. Logan opened his mouth, a puzzled expression on his face. “Patton, can you see out of your glasses? They appear to be broken.” Patton hadn’t noticed it before, but now he realized that Logan was right. Logan looked fuzzy before him, like a glitched cartoon. 

“Well Lo-Lo, I guess they are.” Logan studied him again after Patton responded.

“Are you nearsighted?” Logan asked, making Patton tilt his head in confusion. 

“Wow kiddo, that’s a five-dollar word.” Patton said, giggling slightly. Logan sighed, running his fingers through his dark hair. 

“Can you not see far?” Logan asked, and Patton nodded in return. He watched Logan take off his glasses, and hand them to Patton. As he was putting them on, Logan cleared his throat and said, “I am nearsighted as well. Perhaps these may help. “

As Patton looked around, he noticed how clearly he could see. Looking back at Logan, Patton could see freckles that stood out on his pale skin like stars on a clear night. They decorated his face like constellations, organized chaos.

Patton, shaking his head to clear it, pointed at his glasses. “Hey! We have the same glasses!” Logan, against his will, snorted lightly. It made Patton smile to make Logan, who seemed so stoic, laugh. 

“Hey, Starboy,” One of Logan’s dads, Remy, poked him on the shoulder. “We gotta go now.” Logan sighed, and then turned around. 

“Dad,” Logan queried, drawing the pink tie man’s attention, “Do you have my extra glasses with you?” 

Emile nodded, confused. “Yes I do, but why?” 

“It turns out Patton has the same prescription as me, and his glasses were broken. Could I let him borrow them?” 

Emile nodded, making Patton’s mom send a grateful look at him, “Are you going to need them now, Star, or later?” 

Logan paused for a second. “I think I will be fine until we leave.” He said, turning towards the exit way and promptly walking into the door. Patton covered his mouth, trying to prevent himself from giggling, but started hysterically laughing at the embarrassed look on Logan’s face as he turned around. Logan, shamefacedly, walked back to his parents and begrudgingly took the glasses held out.

“Well,” Patton said, in between wheezing laughs, “See you late, alligator!”

Logan turned around, confused. “There’s no alligator, Patton. We live in Pennsylvania.” 

The sound of Logan’s dads’ laughter echoed the halls as they were politely escorted off the property.

——————  
Logan calmly walked outside for lunch, having brought his own lunch. He had completed his three day suspension, and Logan could admit it really hadn’t been a punishment. 

His dad and Rem had taken him out for ice cream after they left, and they went to a bookstore in town and bought three new books. He squinted when the sunlight hit his eyes, making them go black for a second, leaving time for an ambush.

“Logan!” Patton squealed, having almost tackled him with the force of his hug. Logan blinked back his dizziness from the blue blur. He saw Patton grinning so wide he thought Patton would burst. “I missed you!”

Logan cleared his throat, causing Patton to hastily drop his arms. “Patton, we just met on Monday. How could you miss a stranger who was gone for 3 days?” 

“Egg-actly! I couldn’t forget you if I fried!” Patton giggled, watching Logan’s face.

Logan sighed. “Patton, was that an egg pun? Two egg puns? That was..terrible.” Patton simply beamed wider and grabbed his hand, pulling him along.

“Gee, teach, I thought they were Egg-cellent!” Patton smiled, Logan giving a tired groan. He simply watched as Patton pulled him to a tree where a boy with bright red hair sat. The boy waved as Patton approached.

“Roman!” Patton exclaimed as they reached the tree. “This is Logan! The one I told you about!” The red haired boy, Roman, shot upwards, and fell in a deep bow, scraping the grass with his long fingers. 

“Greetings!” The boy dramatically said, throwing his arms upwards, “I am Roman Prince, and I am eternally grateful for protecting Patton here. I would proclaim you my knight, but you look like a nerd.” 

Logan, baffled, simply watched in confusion. He met Roman’s eyes, seeing the green eyes flicker from confusion to grief to something that seemed like terror. It quickly slipped off as he plastered on a confident grin that made Logans shoulders drop, releasing tension he didn’t know he had. 

“Well, kiddos,” Patton said, drawing both of their attention. “Now that both of you know each other, I’ll be gone for a quick sec here to buy lunch. See ya!” Patton said, hurrying off inside the building. Logan jumped, feeling a hand being placed on his shoulder, He turned around, seeing Roman with a heartbroken look on his face. 

“You disappeared.” Roman said, a serious look on his face, to Logan’s confusion. “What happened?”  
Logan simply stared at Roman, waiting to see the extra boy proclaim this as a joke. 

After he realized Roman was serious, he slowly responded. “Roman, what do you mean?” Roman simply scoffed, throwing off Logan’s words. 

“You know what I mean.” Roman said bitterly, before a look of terror covered his face. He grabbed Logan’s wrist again, causing Logan’s heart to figuratively jump. “Are you still with him? Are you working with him?” Logan’s heartbeat roared in his ears.

“Roman, I am sorry to say, but I think you have mistaken me with someone else. My name is Logan Sanders, and I have never seen you before in my life.” Roman dropped his wrist, narrowing his eyes. He studied his face, looking for a lie. 

“Are you...sure?” Roman asked, watching his face for a reaction. Logan nodded hastily, looking back to see if Patton had come outside yet. 

Roman held his solemn expression for a second more, and then dropped it, grinning. Logan watched, perplexed, as Roman burst out in over-exaggerated laughter.

“You should’ve seen your face, nerd.” Roman said in between cackles. “I can’t believe you feel for that! You’re more gullible than a child in a fae circle being offered candy!”

Logan paused, watching Roman for any more changes. “That was...an extremely specific expression. Were you…” He fumbled in his pocket for a second, looking for his flashcards. “ ‘Messing’ with me?” Roman stopped laughing for a second, glancing at the flashcard. Logan watched as a Roman started laughing even harder than he had been before. 

“I’m back!” Logan heard Patton say, watching him skid to a stop a few feet next to him. “Wait, what’s the joke?” Hearing Patton in genuine confusion made Roman flop to the ground, face red with laughter. 

“Nothing,” He wheezed, making Patton burst out in nervous giggles. “Lo here is really just a nerd.”

Logan’s head whipped around from his lunchbag, his eyebrows furrowed. “Was it because of the vocab cards? That is just how I typically learn new words and phrases.” 

Roman looked up at Logan, a smile decorating his tan face. “Not with slang, Pocket Protector!” 

Patton clapped his hands together, a grin covering his freckled face. “Well, it seems you too are hitting it off.” Roman stood up, throwing an arm around Patton.

“Yea Pat,” He said, a fond look on his face. “I guess we are.”

Logan sat for the rest of lunch, listening to Patton’s horrible food puns and Roman’s dramatic monologues, wondering what the hell had just happened.

Or, as he watched them with a familiar expression, maybe he had just finally made friends. And they were a little weird, but so was he.

And that was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
I hope you enjoyed!  
Leave a comment below if you like it, have feedback, or have a prediction!  
who wants to know about Roman now cause i do ;0


	8. Guilt is a Powerful Weapon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not to Wield, but to the Wielder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Snakes, Ref to Death
> 
> sorry that i disappeared it just Happened also I hope you enjoyed the story and leave suggestions/predications/roasts/love down in the comments it makes me feel the GoodTM

How did Roman know Logan?

It’s a sad story, filled with one sided romances and broken hearts. It's filled with hands reaching out as the other walked away, the words left unsaid weighing the air down with bitterness and regret, but also relief. But that’s just an oversimplification. It’s full of happiness, laughter, and love; but only partly. 

It’s the other side of the fairy tale, before both of their times.

Well, at least this time.

Roman sat idly in the grass, trying to keep his eyes from straying (again!) to the throne. Jealousy rose in the back of his throat as he watched the king smile and laugh. But he wasn’t looking at the king, he wasn’t selfish enough to wish for the throne. He was looking at Orion, the king’s betrothed. 

Orion’s eyes grabbed the sunlight, demanding attention. His hands were thrown widely in the air as he talked, reminding Roman of himself. He glowed with passion, stars forming in his eyes (Roman wasn’t sure if literal stars were, it was possible with Orion), shining like a star.

He was very much like his raven wings, sharp and soft in the same places. His smile lit up the whole night sky, and Roman would swear that his face was a constellation. Roman could write an ode to his happiness, his joy, filled with words he would never say and words that he couldn’t say.

Orion was the one thing that left him speechless. 

Bitterly, Roman thought, of course he would only fall in love with someone who was already in love. And of course it had to be with the king. The goddamn king of lies. 

Roman was raised under him, and it was clear as day that the king of lies was more honest than any other fae. 

A terrible curse, most said, one that wasn’t even his fault, cast by an angry witch with fire eyes that glimmered in the dark. Every sentence the king spoke was twisted, opposite to its true meaning. Most looked at him as terrible, one that could never truly love or care for someone. But what lie is greater than love?

And Roman was certain the way he looked at Orion was not a lie. 

“Roman? Are you okay?” Roman was snapped out of his thoughts by Joan’s concerned voice. “You’re not looking as….extra as usual.” Roman forced a smile, laughing at Joan. 

“Seriously, Joan? Extra is never going to catch on.” He saw Joan’s smile drop into a pout, before they smirked. Roman stared worriedly at Joan as a snide smirk worthy of the king himself covered their face.

“Oh, I see what’s happening here.” Joan airly said, carelessly flicking their hand towards Orion. Roman flushed, realizing what they meant. “Ah, young love. Just go talk to him, see what happens.” They said, wiggling their eyes.

“Don’t talk about love to me like you know what you are doing either, Jo.” Roman smartly retorted. “Everyone can see Talyn and yours’ hopelessly pining looks, Mx. ‘Just go talk to him’. And the worst that could happen is, I don’t know, my head getting chopped off!” He snarked, his hand in a cutting motion over his neck. 

Joan scoffed, laughing at Roman. “That seems a little far-fetched, Princey.” Roman flushed, realizing what he had said had been a little, maybe, einsy wensy dramatic.

“At least I talk to Talyn. You, the brave and fearless Roman who I can recall jumped thirty feet into a pot of chocolate to escape thirty goblins, cannot talk to a boy. Just go talk to him.”Joan’s eyes glowed a soft orange as their beanie jumped off their head, landing on Roman’s. 

The top of the beanie collapsed over, forming what reminded Roman of a mouth. Roman internally sighed as he saw the beanie move, a shit-eating grin on Joan’s face. “Hi! My name is Roman, I’m 5’9”, and I have a death sentence when my pride is challenged. Also, you are really hot.” The beanie said, making Roman flush with embarrassment. Joan smirked at him, before grabbing his wrist, gently pulling him forwards. 

Roman’s eyes widened as he realized they were heading towards Orion, and quickly opened his mouth in panic. “Joan, my greatest and most loyal parent, I beg for your mercy.”

Joan stopped, and turned around with a snide smirk on their face. “Then beg.” They proceeded to throw Roman forwards, making Roman stumble and fall right in front of-

_ shit. _

“Excuse me, are you alright?” A concerned voice spoke above his head. He nodded, face flushed with humiliation. Inside, he was cursing himself _ Roman I swear to God there goes all of your dreams with this lovely man. I thought you were a dancer, but it seems to me we are just a clumsy jester. _ He slowly looked up, right into the concerned faces of the King and Orion and ** _IS THAT A SNAKE_ ** _ \- _

“AUGH!” He involuntarily screamed, scrambling backwards, almost tripping over his own feet. Heart racing, he saw the snake curled around the King’s shoulders, a lazy, almost smug, flick of its tongue. 

“J- Dee, I told you that the snake frightens others.” He heard Orion scold the snake-wielding man. “Do not worry, it is simply a king snake, and mostly harmless.” He said, turning around with an apologetic look on his face, conflicting with the fact that the King looked like they were about to burst with laughter. 

“Hate to break it to you, Specs, but mostly harmless is NOT harmless. And Mr. Snake over there looks like he would find my hand a tasty snack.” The words fell out of his mouth before he could stop it. Cursing his impulsivity, he backtracked as the King’s smile dropped and he moved closer. The king gently held the snake’s head out towards Roman, and Roman braced for impact.

“Would you **not **like to hold him?” The king said quietly, making Roman freeze in confusion. 

“Uh, not to be rude, but I’m still terrified of that snake. I think it replaced Joan as my top fear.” He said, hearing annoyance from Joan, who stood at a careful distance, watching this interaction with a smile.

Orion twisted his hands, nervously reaching out and patting Roman on his shoulder. “I assure you, uh-“ He looked to Roman for clarification. 

“You can call me Princey.” Orion huffed once, but continued.

“I assure you,” Orion sighed. “_ Princey _, that this snake is completely non-venomous, and just uses mimicry to protect themselves from predators. Here, I’ll show you.” He looked towards the King, who unraveled the snake from around his arm.

“**Don’t **take him, starlight.” A slight blush covered the shorter one’s face before he tenderly took the snake, letting him slither around his shoulders.

“See? He is perfectly tame, and honestly, is too lazy to bite you.” The King (Orion called him Dee?), paused, an offended look on his face. 

“Excuse me, love, but Mr. Slithers **is** lazy. **Do **talk about our child like that.” He said passionately, before making hands for the snake. Orion sighed, and handed him over, but not before Roman burst out in giggles. 

“I’m sorry,” He choked out, hysterical. “But- you have this whole reputation, and I just saw you make _ grabby hands _ for your snake-child, who you have named _ Mr. Slithers _.” 

The king paused, an offended look on his face. “Excuse me, Mr.Slithers **isn’t **a perfectly fine name.” 

Orion paused, the stoic look breaking as he looked at the king. “It really isn’t, dear.” 

“**Not** betrayed by my love! What ever shall I **not** do?” Dee said, hand covered his face in a dramatic pose. Roman started to laugh again at the pure domesticity, heart aching inside.

“Okay, you are even more dramatic than me, and that’s a high standard to fulfill.” Roman snorted, watching his face grow even more offended. 

Roman still loved Orion, and felt his heart breaking at the finality of the fact that he had no chance.

But the king had gingerly held out a bandage, showing that he was not who Roman thought he was.

And maybe, he could stay with Orion, but just not the way that he so desperately wanted.

**(TIME SKIP)**

Roman was...worried to say the least. He had left Orion and J for two days for a trip, and something bad had happened that nobody would talk about. He hasn’t seen either of them since his arrival, which was...odd. Usually they hung out together after Roman’s travels, making fun of other stuffy kings and the wild adventures Roman always got caught on. 

What worried Roman the most was the fact that Joan refused to look him in the eyes, and won’t tell him. Joan told him everything, and the fact that he hadn’t even heard hushed whispers of gossip about it had chilled him to the bone. This should’ve told Roman enough.

But, Roman was a gay with _ no _ sense of self-preservation, so he was going to get to the bottom of this. 

Even if he had no idea where to even start.

After a whole lot of planning, that included a redraft because-

_ they couldn’t be dead, right? _ Roman pressed, no, beat back the intrusive thoughts with a stick.

A crooked smile fell across his face. _ Besides, there is no way J would ever let something happen to Orion. _

_ Ever. _

Roman clung to this fragile hope, and looking back only a few hours later, realized the irony of that statement. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As he walked towards Joan and Talyn, he heard their hushed whispers and increased his pace. Talyn looked shocked, but as they saw Roman approaching the expression quickly become horror-struck. 

Trying to force his rapidly fading smile to stay on his face, he greeted his parent and Talyn (so basically parents). “Hello. Why do you look like you just swallowed a frog?” They looked between themselves, and something softened in Joan’s expression. 

“Uh- Ro,” Talyn said softly, like they were talking to a trembling puppy. “Orion and Deceit, they are back.” A smile formed on Roman’s face, and he grinned, ready to see his two best friends and pine from a distance at Orion. 

Joan looked up, and carefully placed their hand on Roman’s shoulder. “But here’s the thing, Roman. Something happened, and the king…” They trailed off, trying to find the words to describe it.

Roman could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and his hands starting to shake from adrenaline.

“He changed. He’s not who he was.” Talyn spoke up, a daring calm to their voice. Roman could feel his heart shatter, and break, but it couldn’t be _ that _bad? He just needs a little time. 

“Roman, it is bad.” Roman’s head shot up at Joan’s response, and he realized that he had voiced his thoughts. “That’s why I don’t want you to go-“

“It’s fine, Jo. You’re just overreacting. You are just trying to get me to stay away from them because you don’t like the king.” He said, anger settling over the panic, causing his words to fly hot and sharp. “I’m just going to check on them! They probably just need to see their favorite Prince and get a few jokes cracked.” 

“You don’t understand Roman. It’s not that simpl-“

“THEN WHY WOULDN’T YOU JUST TELL ME!” He yelled, voice cracking on the last word. Joan sighed, but withdrew their hand from Roman’s shoulder. 

“You can go, but don’t say that I didn’t warn you, Ro.”

Roman turned away from Joan and Talyn, and walked at a calm and perfectly steady rate towards the middle of the forest. He did not start running halfway through, filled with panic. His heart didn’t pound so hard that he could feel it pressing outwards.

He did not cry, did not weep _ because there was nothing wrong _. Because if there was, and Roman had left them, and they got hurt-

_ It would be his fault. _

And, later, as Roman Prince watched his Orion disappear, he knew that this was all his fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively this chapter was known The Time Roman was a Dumb Stupid Gay and the Other Time He Didn’t Confront His Feelings
> 
> the next chapter will be actual plot lmao  
chronological order who’s she never heard of her


	9. “Not in a Straight Line, But All in Pieces” (It’s about time your heart breaks like a wheel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you hear my heartbeat shattering? 
> 
> (title is from “Ashes on Your Eyes” by Deb Talan)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Sword, injury, blood, manipulation, shapeshifting, cursing, vague ref to amnesia, hostage- taking (marked off with these lines — ) (info at end), just His Snakiness Being Snakey

"Patton, Emo, and Nerd hurry up! I've been waiting decades for you guys!" Roman's voice rang across the field. Virgil scowled in the corner of Logan's eye.

"Why do we get nicknames and not Patton, Princey?" Virgil grumbled, voice dark but eyes clearly twinkling with mischief.

"Be cause Patton brought the snacks! You just brought a dark cloud of angiestness!" Roman smirked over, watching Virgil.

"Pardon, but it is a clearly sunny day. Besides, how could Virgil possibly control the weather-" Logan sharply cut himself off as he noticed the others' amused expressions. "Ah, you meant figuratively."

Roman walked over, slinging an arm across Logan's shoulders, careful not to jostle the basket in his hand. "My nerd, keep walking. I want cookies and this is the only time I get to eat as many as Patton's cookies as I can."

Patton walked up to Roman, beaming, "Aw, Roman, you really think my cookies are that good!" Patton practically tackled Roman, forcing him to let go of Logan. He gave him a quick hug, before snatching the basket from Roman's hand.

Roman watched as Patton darted away, mouth agape. "HEY! THIEF!" Patton simply giggled in response.

"Well, you better call the cops, kiddo, because I guess I'm a-"

"Don't-" Logan warned.

"crook-ie." Logan groaned in frustration at Patton's puns. Patton placed his hand on Logan's arm, a worried look on his face.

"What's wrong, Lo-lo? Do your socks have holes in them?" Patton asked.

"No they do not!" Logan said frustratedly.

"Well, then how did ya get your feet in them!" Logan froze for a second, before taking a deep breath.

"You know what, I'm- I'm just gonna walk that one off." Logan turned around, ready to head back. Virgil grabbed his arm, pulling him around and towards the forest.

"Come on, L, the puns aren't that bad." Virgil cracked a crooked grin, causing the tips of Logan's ears to heat up. Just the summer heat, he told himself.

It's not summer, the logical side of his brain said.

"Get your head out of the clouds, Marie Bore-ie!" Roman drawled from across the field, causing Patton to scold Roman.

"Roman, that's not very nice." Patton's expression drooped into a pout, eyebrows crinkling together. Roman sighed loudly, a few birds squawking indignantly from the branches about him.

"Fine, Professor Party-Pooper, I give you my deepest, most sincere, apologies." Roman dropped into a bow, his fingers just barely scraping the dirt. Virgil's hands drummed idly on Logan's arm, a loose rhythm with no rhyme or reason.

"You know, L, i don't think Princey here knows what an apology is." Virgil fake-whispered.

Logan's eyes glinted for a split second, before he cleared his throat and responded. "Well, it's fair, considering I do not believe Roman knows who Marie Curie is." Roman sputtered in return, a bright red flush spreading over his face. Virgil snickered, holding out his hand for a high-five that Logan gleefully returned.

"Kiddos!" Patton scolded. "Don't pick on Roman!"

"Yea! What he said!" Roman shouted, pointing at the cardigan-clad man. Patton skipped over to Roman, placing the basket down gently in the shade.

The bushes rustled, causing Patton to jump nervously. Logan looked around, scanning the surroundings for the source of the disturbance. The trees gently swayed, seemingly unaware of their fear.

The smallest of shadows traced the ground before him, crawling up his spine in a cold shiver.

"Never fear, Patton! I'm sure it's just a rabbit or other small background singer!" Roman proclaimed loudly, Logan tilting his head in confusion. He rubbed his forehead, wondering why he had become friends with this very perplexing man.

"Uh, Beyonc-gay," Virgil said, Roman smirking in return.

"Nice."

"Thanks." Virgil continued. "You might have to translate from Theatre Speak to L and-" A sharp crack startled the group, causing Virgil to trail off warily.

The birds above them sat innocently, but their silence spoke measures. Logan watched as Virgil unconsciously shifted in front of Patton, and Roman reached to his side, pulling out _a_ _fucking katana where did he get that from_-

"Never fear, my dears!" Logan flushed, but noted the rhyme. Virgil gaped at Roman, who had begun swinging it around in the general direction of the trees. "Come out, foul beast!" They all paused, cringing, but were met with the quiet. Logan watched the tension bleed out of Virgil's shoulders, just a little, and reach forward towards Roman.

"Uh, Princey, I don't think anyone's ther-" Another softer snap, that sounded suspiciously like someone stepping on a twig, was heard. Logan turned around, watching Patton tremble but seemingly swallow his fear and walk forwards.

"Hey, kiddo, you wanna come out?" He spoke gently, like talking to a toddler. Even though Logan was terrified tense, he could appreciate Patton's ability to soothe any creature (and it was cute too but Logan would never admit that). Logan watched as Patton crouched down, his curls falling forwards.

"Kiddo, we aren't going to hurt you, it's okay," Patton said again, taking a cautious step forward. A soft whimper was heard, and the bush crept apart.

A small child, around the age of five or so, stood, shifting back and forth. He looked down, refusing to meet their eyes.

Patton slowly moved towards him, hands in the air. "Hey, kiddo, what are you doing out here all alone?" Patton whispered, and the kid flinched away. "No, it's okay, kiddo. We want to help you."

Logan watched as the boy spoke. "I- I got lost."

Roman lowered his sword, placing it on the ground. Glancing over at Virgil helplessly, Logan shrugged, seeing the same look on Virgil's face.

"Don't be afraid little one! I, Prince Roman, will protect you!" He giggled at Roman's response, and Logan could feel himself relaxing. It was just a kid.

"Whatevewr you say, Wo-man." A slight lisp dotted some of the words, and the boy's face curved into a smile.

"So, kiddo, I'm Patton! That's Virgil," Virgil saluted towards him with two fingers. "Logan," Logan stiffly waved. "And you know Roman." Roman dropped into a bow. "What's your name?" The boy froze. He still wouldn't look at them, and Logan wondered what he was thinking behind the shaded eyes.

"Um, you can call me Jay," Logan shivered at the odd phrasing, but he relaxed at the boy's soft grin.

"Well, Jay, where are your parents?" Jay shook his head, fluttering his fingers nervously.

"Don't worry, Prince Jay, we just want to help you!" Roman declared, and Jay's face twitched with annoyance for a split second.

"I didn't ask you, Princey." He said, wrinkling his nose. The redhead balked, and Logan cocked his head in confusion. Immediately, Logan knew that something was wrong. The air thrummed with tension, and he fought the urge to tug his tie nervously.

The boy's posture shifted, from relaxed and trusting to something a lot more calculated.

"Well, you really don't remember me? It has been a while, hasn't it?" Roman's face dropped from perplexed to threatening in a matter of seconds. He grabbed for the katana on the ground, but came up with air and bits of grass.

"Are you, **not** missing something, Ro?" The boy said, the tone lilting innocently on the last word. A sword, no, Roman's katana dangled from his seemingly careless grasp, the curved edge barely brushing the dirt. Jay finally looked up, and Logan could hear Patton's gasp of horror.

One of Jay's eyes was slitted, like a cat's, or a snake. Something about it felt horribly familiar, like looking at an old photo in a scrapbook. It felt so right but so wrong seeing it, something Logan could not quite place.

And judging by Virgil's sharp inhale, he wasn't the only one remembering things.

Roman's face screwed up with anger, but Logan took notice to the slight shake in his clenched fists. "Give it back right now Jack the Fibber!" Jay clapped, the slow repetition of drawn out beats, a grating, sarcastic noise on his ears.

"Oh, Roman," Roman twitched at his name. "I **do** believe that might be your best one yet!" His voice was loud and over the top, almost a mockery of the other.

"Just- show yourself. Princey might not have his sword but I can take you." Virgil's low, almost growling voice shot across the grass, shaking the two out of their verbal spar. Logan saw the barely perceptible step as Virgil shifted his weight, eyes burning with hatred. But the thing wearing the boy's face simply chuckled, eyes twinkling with amusement.

"So you **don't** remember, interesting. Your more extra friend** totally doesn't** have any insight on that...situation. Isn't that right, _Princey_~?" He drawled, popping the last word. Virgil's face drained out of the corner of his eye, and Roman stepped backwards, shocked.

Logan wanted to reach out, say something as Virgil's eyes scanned Roman desperately, silently begging for the liar to have been telling the truth. (But in all honesty, he had no idea what they were talking about. And, by the look on their faces, it was definitely important.) The hoodie-wearing man sighed, but turned his attention once again to Jay.

"Just be dramatic or whatever in your actual body, you look dumb as a six year old." The other gasped, a scandalized look on their face.

"Well if you **don't** insist, Virgil." Logan didn't have the words to describe what happened next. Jay's image blurred, like an out-of-focus photo. He felt a brief flash of panic as he realized he couldn't focus on any part of the boy.

In fact, he couldn't remember what Jay had looked like, except for his slitted eye that seemed to see everything at once. He squinted at him, rubbing his glasses, but it didn't get clearer.

Then the once-boy began to move, and then Logan had to close his eyes, a pounding headache threatening to spill over from it. Soft cackling brought him to someone wearing a dark capelet and hat with matching yellow accents.

——————-

"So," He said, stepping towards them. Jay smirked, the scales that appeared on his face seeming to ripple with the motion. "Are you satisfied?" Quick as a viper, he grabbed Logan's arm, spinning him around to face the others. Logan shivered as he felt the cold metal of the katana rest against his throat.

"Woah there kiddo, I really don't get the point to this." Logan repressed a groan as he heard the pun in the sentence. But, as he saw Patton's smile not reach his eyes, and his hands shaking, he decided not to mention it. (And maybe Logan himself was just panicking, or in shock. He'd have to record this experience at a later date.)

"Why don't we just put the sword down, and I can give you some cookies, and we'll be on our way?" He stepped forwards, but the sword tightened around Logan's throat, making him stop.

The voice above his ear tutted, sending shivers up his spine. "What's wrong, Pat, **don't** you trust me?" Roman narrowed his eyes at that statement.

"Don't trust the snake here, he's literally the King of Lies." He boomed, making Jay sigh in irritation. Something inside him clicked after hearing Roman's name for him.

Logan closed his eyes, searching deep down in an attempt to find what it was. It was like a chest, rusty and barely open, but it suddenly slammed as soon as he snatched one word from it. It was strange, but in a way that was strangely familiar.

Suddenly he knew what he had to say. He opened his eyes, seeing another argument break out between Roman and him.

"Janus?" He said quietly, almost a question. Logan wasn't sure if they could hear him, but by the way the sword slackened and the others stared, he was right.

"Wh- how didn't you know that?" The voice behind him demanded. Logan was roughly spun, forced to stare directly in the eyes of him. The eyes widened, almost imperceptibly, but the sword slackened, and then dropped.

——————-

Logan hadn't realized he'd been shaking until he felt Patton's hand on his shoulder. He leaned into the touch, something thrumming in his chest, threatening to splinter and grow.

He reached up to his neck, a sticky substance withdrawn as a single tear slid down his -attempted- expressionless face.

It wasn't until he looked at Roman he remembered where he had seen this feeling expressed first, in a cafeteria, seemingly so long ago.

Heartbreak.

————-

Info:Logan gets held by Deceit with a sword to his neck. Patton tried to negotiate, it fails. Logan remembers something after Roman uses the nickname "King of Lies". He remembers Deceit's name, Janus, and says it, which startles him into dropping the sword and running.

————-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy! This chapter really starts off the plot, and was really fun to write!   
Any kudos, comments, or feedback / suggestions / criticisms are appreciated and make my day!   
<3 love ya


	10. i wish i could tell you life is four-leaves clovers and dandelion blooms (but i’d be lying)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some secrets come to light, but others are barely scratching the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the break, Patton really didn’t want to follow my plan for this chapter, but I made it work! On the bright side, enjoy some hurt/ comfort starting Patton!

Something was wrong.

Something was wrong, and Patton could feel it in his chest, and it pressed against his chest and squeezed behind his eyes.

Because Logan was crying, and Patton could only watch as his friend shattered in front of him. The same Logan who had patiently waited when Patton couldn't figure out a math problem, the one who had hugged him silently while he raged at the world after his parents got back together and then didn't, the one who had defended him, without knowing Patton, the first day they had met.

Logan who now knew Patton, all the bits and pieces that were stuck together, a little broken, but still good. But apparently Patton didn't know Logan, and that hurt more than anything he had ever experienced before.

Patton put his shaking hands together and stubbornly ignored the lump in his throat. You know, Logan would say that repression isn't good.

Well, Patton needs to put Logan back together before he can fall apart again, so maybe a little re-press-ion to ease the press-ure of this situation, he thought, a little hysterically.

Patton cleared his throat gently before approaching his almost catonic friend. He moved one of his hands to Logan's shoulder, and felt him lean in, just a little.

"Hey, kiddo," He said, waiting for Logan's response of 'I am not a kiddo, I am a whole 2 months and 14 days older than you', and something in his chest popped when he saw his friend barely flinch at his words. "I know you're feeling a little down right now, but-"

He was interjected by Roman, who shot him an apology. "As they say in the grand piece Annie, the sun'll come up tomorrow!" He boomed, almost normal, except Patton caught the tremble of panic in his voice,

"Jeez, L, you gotta say something or otherwise Roman's gonna kill me with his theatre references." Virgil grumbled, and Patton relaxed as he saw Logan twitch at the other's familiar voice. "On a second thought, I might kill him."

He heard Roman's offended gasp, and the two got into a playful banter, almost like they were sitting at lunch together. Patton could almost pretend Logan was sighing besides him and Virgil wasn't shaking and Roman's eyes weren't a little glassy.

"Well," He muttered, mostly to himself. "This is a catastrophe." Surprisingly, Logan jolted at that, and Patton turned worriedly to his friend. Logan, however, laughed, and Patton felt a relieved grin slide onto his face.

"Patton," Logan said, and Roman and Virgil immediately dropped the half conversation. "Was that a cat pun?" Patton just sheepishly smiled in return, and felt his heart rate settle, but jump again when he saw Logan's neck.

"Logan, are you okay? I didn't notice that you were bleeding!" He said worriedly, and reached out to touch the wound with his hand.

"It is fine Patton, it is just a scratch and it- it" He dropped off, furrowing his brows. Patton watched, confused as Logan looked downwards, almost in thought.

"It, it actually doesn't hurt anymore." Logan whispered, and Patton looked in confusion for a moment.

How could that happen? It couldn't heal that fas- Oh. He saw his hand shaking as he took it off of Logan's neck, and barely a scratch remained.

"Oh. Oh." Patton murmured, and he turned to look at his hand, which was sticky with his friend's blood. It smelt like old pennies, and Patton could feel his heart thumping in his ears, louder and louder. He turned, and winced at the confused, no horrified expressions on Virgil and Roman's faces. They sat there, for a minute, and Patton felt the silence wrap around his throat and squeeze.

A little hesitantly, Virgil moved forwards. "Hey, Pat, could you give us a hand here?" He watched as the boy grabbed a napkin from the bag and gestured to his stained hand. "Uh, it was supposed to be a pun, like give us a hand, but uh-"

"I think he gets that, Gerald Gay." Patton gave a weak smile at Roman's bad joke. "Uh, Padre, ya wanna let us clean that off for you?" He looked down at his hand, and they must be kidding if that's what they're worried about, they must think he's stupid if he's going to fall for that now. He knows that they know that Patton's just a freak, even if his...power is a little helpful sometimes.

Clearing his throat, Patton just looks down at the cloth, refusing to meet their eyes. "Um, could I-" His voice cracks, and he pushes down the lump in his throat and tries again. "Could I do it myself?" The question comes out impossibly small, like he was standing in front of a jury box that seemed to stretch on for years.

Virgil moves slowly, like he's approaching a rabbit in a trap. And Patton realizes he must look like one, shoulders dropped but his legs tensed, and he realizes he feels cornered. Sooner or later, they are going to have questions, and once they find out they'll leave (just like last time).

So he reached out and took the napkin, and wiped the blood from his hands. He took a deep breath, and tried again. "So- so you don't want to know what just happened?"

Virgil looked at him with an expression he couldn't decipher. "I mean, it'll be great to know what the hell just happened-"

"Language," Patton scolds, almost on autopilot.

"I mean, do you want to tell us what just happened, Pat?" Virgil continued, smiling a little from Patton's reprimand.

"I'm a little confused as well, Patton. If you could share what you know it would clear things up a bit. B-" Patton shook his head quickly, cutting off the rest of Logan's words.

"Well, uh, you see," Patton started, trying to figure out something to say that didn't make him sound crazy, "I don't...know?" He weakly giggled, the light-hearted sound falling flat with the tension.

"Well, Patton, let's go over the facts. I was bleeding, and then you touched it, and now I cannot feel even a scratch." Logan spoke calmly, almost too calmly for someone who had just almost died, Patton thought.

"And Padre," Roman interjected, taking a hesitant step towards him. "I think we all saw...whatever just happened before this, so if you're worried about us not believing you, I'm pretty sure we can figure this out, together." He reached his hand towards Patton. Staring forward, he felt his shoulders relax, and he grasped Roman's hand tentatively.

"So, to really cut to the chase here, kiddos," Patton said, hearing Logan's groan at the poorly-placed pun (Though Patton thought it was a good time for puns all the time, even while serious-talk-time). "I think, uh, I might've fixed it? Like touching it, and then bam, you're all better!" He looked around nervously, waiting for someone to say something. Like Logan stating his disbelief, or Roman with his sword, or even Virgil saying something about how unrealistic this was.

Because Patton knew that, but it still happened.

Patton caught Virgil's eye for a second, holding it until he watched the other's face slide into an easy grin. "If it was anyone else, Pat, I might be skeptical, but that is the most you thing that could happen. Like, accidentally getting a magical power, and then it being healing? That's so you." Roman suddenly lit up, grabbing him by his hands, spinning him.

"You're like a magical girl! All we need is a couple skirts and my sword and all the villains in the world would be vanquished!" Patton grinned at Roman's antics, watching him talk animatedly about 'The Adventures of Prince Roman and Patton (and Logan and Virgil, I guess).

"Wait, we wouldn't hurt any wrong-doers, right? Because that wouldn't be very-"

"Don't even think about it, Patton." Logan warned.

"Penny-wise of us!" Logan sighed in exasperation, but turned to look Patton in the eyes.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Logan said, "Patton, I'm proud of you for sharing this information about you, even if you were nervous that we were going to judge you or not believe you. Thank you for helping me, and being open with us." Patton blinked rapidly, feeling tears welling up.

"Aw, Lo, you're welcome! Besides, I would've helped you anyway, even if it would have taken a little bit longer!" He pulled Logan into a hug, with Logan hesitating, and then patting him on the back. Logan could be a little confused sometimes with his and others emotions, but when it came down to it, he always knew what to say to make him feel better.

"Wow, Logan, didn't know ya had it in you for that heart-to-heart." Virgil deadpanned, a small smirk on his face signifying his joke. "Now that we got through all of that emotional vulnerability and sh-stuff," He quickly corrected himself, Patton smiling proudly. "Can we go back to the picnic? We didn't even get to eat Patton's cookies, which-"

Roman interrupted, pulling Virgil along playfully. "Which are a gift to society, and a blessing on my life!" Logan rolled his eyes, but started towards the abandoned basket, Patton following closely by. With the sun shining directly over Logan's head, he swore that the light illuminated around him.

"Wait," Virgil said, stopping and turning towards the others, a sharp crunch of a stick echoing beneath him. "How did Roman know that guy?" Roman had a look of confusion, and then realization on his face.

"As Prince Roman, I know all the villains in the kingdom that I've sworn to take down. Besides, I'm just really good at improv, if you can't tell." Roman brushed his hand across his head, flicking it to the side dramatically. Patton relaxed a bit, even if he thought that the level of hatred Roman seemed to have for the snake-faced man a little big for someone he had just met, but brushed it off.

Besides, Roman was that good of an actor.

————————

Deep in the heart of the forest, a snake lay in rest, speaking with others that emerged from the trees. He laid a warning down to those who may fight, and commanded that they find a star-gazed young man who wore glasses. It might've been the fading sunlight between the branches, but the snake's eyes flashed orange for a split second.

Unknowingly to him, a willowy figure watched behind the trees, and remembered a gift she had bestowed all those years ago, and set to warn a kind-hearted child (teenager, it had been a while) of the dangers that lay for his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, leave a comment if you have any feedback, suggestions or just want to talk! Kudos are appreciated, and have a good day! :D


	11. Can’t Turn Back Now that the Chips are Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively titled: Everyone please stop entering forests and Patton, as well as Roman and Virgil, forget away something really important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: cursing, implied violence

The swing gently creaks below him, and Patton checks his phone one more time, wondering where his friends were. Well, it wasn't _that_ big of a deal, and it's not like Patton minded sitting by himself! He enjoyed the nostalgic memories of the playground like anyone else, and usually the gentle swaying of the swings would ease any of his nerves.

It was just that they were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago, and Logan was nothing if not punctual. Virgil tended to arrive a little later so he didn't have to be the first person there, and Roman claimed he arrives 'casually late' (code for what Patton thought was 'wanted someone to see his dramatic entrance'). The sun was getting low on the horizon, and Patton had never quite shook his fear of the dark off as a kid.

Attempting to calm his increasingly rapid heartbeat as the shadows crawled from under the tree, closer and closer, Patton tried to distract himself. He hummed to himself a familiar tune, that a certain princess had sang in Roman's favorite disney movie (although he would never admit it).

"_isn't it crazy?_" "_what!_" He swung sideways, pretending to be someone else. "_how we finish each other's-_" "_sandwiches_!" He snorted, slowly relaxing. Just as he was about to get to the chorus, he felt a hand on his shoulder, making him shoot upwards.

"Holy s-guacamole, that certainly was an en-_tree_-ance!" He said, shaking his head. "You almost scared the pants right off me, Vir..." As he turned around, he was greeted with the unsmiling face of an older woman. "Well, you certainly aren't Virgil? How may I help ya!"

The other's lips twitched upwards, but the melancholy look in her eyes told a different story. Patton could almost remember knowing her, brow furrowing as he tried to place where he knew her from. _Just the luck of growing up in a small town_, Patton thought amusedly. _You know everyone._

"Uh, do I know you, kidd- ma'am? You just look a little familiar." Patton caught himself before he called the other his nickname for her friends. With her shocking white hair, she looked like she could be Patton's grandmother.

"Ah, I do believe we've met before, Patton." Her mouth curved into a soft moon shape. "I need your help- or rather, dear Patton, you need my help." Patton shook his head, confused.

"Sorry, Miss, I don't know what I would need your help for, unless you have any good cookie recipes! Certainly, sugar cookies and sprinkles are a _batch_ made in heaven!"

The other shakes her head. "Sorry, but I don't have any-" Her words were cut off by a loud "_ahem_" behind Patton. Turning around, he saw Roman with a suspicious look on his face.

"Excuse me, but why are you talking to him?" Roman approaches quickly, standing next to Patton with his arms crossed. Something loosened in Patton's chest looking at him. He hadn't noticed it before, but he had been a little nervous.

A softer look in his eyes, Roman turned towards Patton. "Not that I blame you, Patton. But surely you must know better than to talk to random strangers! Especially at night! What would've happened if she had whisked you off before your knight in shining armor could come save you!"

Patton giggled, poking Roman in the chest. "No really, Ro? You could've gotten changed out of your costume before you left rehearsal. Besides, Mrs. Stox _might_ be missing her costume right about now!"

Roman flushed, but his arms did nothing to prevent Patton from seeing the red sash that ran diagonally across his torso. Roman was a star performer of Foster Hollows' drama club, but had forgotten to change out of his outfits one too many times for the director, Mrs. Stox, to not be a little exasperated.

Roman turned back to the lady, who had silently watched their back-and-forth. "Forgive me, m'lady, but Patton here can sometimes be a little too trusting." Patton squawked, face reddening.

"It was _one_ time! And in my defense, I really, really love cats-"

"You're allergic! As well as that, you almost got kidnapped!" Patton grinned mischievously at Roman's remarks. The woman cleared her throat, clearly tired of waiting.

"Sorry to interrupt, but your friend needs your help. He is in grave danger." Their smiles immediately slipped off their faces, and Patton felt his heart in his throat.

"Who?" Patton managed to whisper, dreading her response. Was it Virgil? Who almost was the embodiment of fight-or-flight sometimes, but could always be counted on to find himself in a little bit of danger? _Or_, as Patton worried, maybe even Logan, or his _mom_.

"Orion." Roman's face drained in the corner of his eye, but Patton guiltily felt his heart almost stop with relief.

"I'm sorry, but who is that?" A familiar, scratchy voice spoke out from behind him. Virgil placed a comforting hand on Patton's shoulder as the woman tilted her head in confusion.

"Your friend with the red hair knows, but I need Patton to come with me. He can help." Her voice is deadly low in the quiet.

"Wait- how am I supposed to help?" Patton asked, voice cracking. "I-I don't even know who he is." The other stared at him for a moment, before taking his hand.

"I think you know." His hand tingled with memory at her touch. Stomach dropping, Patton suddenly realized why she was so familiar to him. He left his hand drop out of her grasp, hanging limply at his side.

"How do we know we can trust you?" Virgil practically growled, stepping forward. "We don't even know your name!" The other sighed, taking a pensive glance to her left.

"Fine. You may call me Odette." The women, Odette, motioned for them to follow her. "Now come on- we don't have any time to waste." She turned around, walking into the shadowy woods behind her. Patton hesitated, looking worriedly at his friends.

Virgil muttered, looking towards them. "Are you sure we are going to do this? It's kinda insane."

"Do you trust me?" Roman spoke, voice quieter than normal. The other fidgeted slightly with his cuffs. Virgil rolled his eyes, irritated.

"Goddammit, Princey this is not the time for your disney references."

Roman reached out, grasping at Virgil's hand. Fingers gently intertwined like two young dancers, he stared into Virgil's eyes. "Do you trust me?" Virgil natured for a moment, and then softly nodded.

As they reach the edge of the forest, the pale birthmark on his hand, almost hand-shaped, burned in the dimming light. He had a bad feeling about this; almost like he was forgetting about something. And usually, his gut was right on things. Taking a deep breath, Patton steeled his nerves, and stepped through the trees.

——

"Yes, I'll be perfectly fine. You have no reason to worry- I'm quite sure they just haven't shown up yet." Logan reassured his dad, who was sitting in the car. "Besides, Roman likes to...ah, what was it?" He fumbled through his pockets, pulling out his vocal cards. "arrive 'fashionably late'." Emile snorted at his vocab cards, but was visibly calmer.

"Alright, but call me if you need me! I may not be Appa, but I can get here quicker than you can say 'bison'!" Emile gave a wink before quickly closing the car door. It took a moment, but Logan processed what he said.

"Was that- _was that a pun for the love of all things Crofters-_" His dad sat innocently in the car, but the twitching at the corner of his mouth gave him away. "Get back here right now- _it is not funny_, it- it is objectively horrible, _stop laughing_," His dad, to Logan's annoyance, continue to drive away.

"You're lucky you're my Crofters supplier, otherwise I would not stand for this." He mutters under his breath, walking away. He quickly finds an old bench to sit at, one that had probably been there since Logan was born. As Logan pulled out his phone, ready to text his friends, someone came running over to him.

Raising an eyebrow at the panting figure before him, who simply raised a finger, asking for a moment. Logan patiently waited for them, not so patiently wondering why a complete stranger wants to talk to him.

He ponders if it would be rude to just get up and leave, debating the pros and cons. _For one, he could go home and have to conversate with a dunderhead probably from school. On the other hand, Patton, Virgil, and Roman still haven't arrived, _which worried Logan. It seemed as thought he had taken too long deliberating, as the other finally opened their mouth to speak.

"Um- you know Patton right? The kind of bubbly one?" The other asks him, green eyes worriedly staring at him.

Logan sighs, but nods. "Yes, I do. Why are you asking me?" They stare at him, something in their expression uncomfortably close to pity, before pulling out a pair of damaged glasses.

At first, Logan was confused. That was until he saw that the electric blue frame had stars doodled on the edges, and Logan didn't have to check to see if they were accurate. He could remember like it was yesterday carefully drawing them on for Patton as a birthday gift, his own stars drawn a little more messily by Patton on his own glasses. Something in his chest cracked, and he could feel (look at him, using I feel statements, Patton- _Patton_ would be proud.) the pressure demanding a release at the back of his throat.

Jumping up, he snatched the glasses out of the other's hands with shaking fingers. "Where- _where did you get these?_" He hissed. The other stepped back defensively, hands raised.

"Look- I found them at the edge of the forest. I think he's in danger." Logan stares for a moment, before carefully folding the damaged glasses into his pocket.

"Well, then what are we waiting for?" Logan gestures for the, to start moving, and they start running across the soccer field, Logan close to their heels.

"Um, you can call me Sunny, by the way," They say as they near the edge of the trees. Logan barely notices the sun dipping below the horizon.

"Logan." He shortly says. As they near the edge of the forest, Sunny stops suddenly. Caught on the edge of a bush is a familiar black and purple patterned fabric, which Logan picks up gently. He presses his glasses back, grasping a piece of Virgil's hoodie like his life depends on it.

With everything in him warning him to _turn back now_, and everything else saying _they need you right now_, he walked into the forest.

——

Virgil had never been a fan of walking. Not in gym class, not for fun, and certainly not on a seemingly life-or-death mission to save someone he doesn't even know. It's dark, and it's cold, and everything in Virgil wants to turn back and go home already. He doesn't want to be out here, maybe risking his life. He just wants to go home and not be the hero of some stupid fantasy story.

_Virgil's never been anyone's definition of a hero, anyways, so why should he start now?_

The lady, Odette, slows to match pace at Roman's side. She smiles softly at him, something in her eyes more friendly. "The forest has missed your presence. We thought your disappearance might have been your last." Now, Virgil had no _fucking_ idea what that meant, but apparently it made sense to Roman, who smiled broadly.

"Do you really think anyone could stop me? I simply had to take time to, ah, recharge." Roman ends a little weakly.

Odette chuckles at his words. "Well, despite everything, I'm glad you're back." She grabs his shoulder, lowering her voice so that Virgil could barely make out her words just a couple of feet behind. "Forest- danger- snake prince," _Or something like that,_ Virgil thinks to himself.

He notices that Patton hasn't spoken in a while, so he nudges the other's shoulder. "Having fun watching those two? They act like an old married mafia couple with all of these secret whispers." He mutters, earning a smile in return.

"Hey!" Roman shouts. "Secrets, secrets, are no fun, tell me now or else we're done!" He looks up to see Roman standing in front of them, arms crossed.

"Touché, Princey. You guys can whisper about your stupid secrets, that make _no sense_ by the way, but we can't?" Roman rubs his arms sheepishly. "Speaking of which, the lady, Odette, came for Patton but you seem to know her better? What's with that, huh?" He watches Roman give a desperate look to Odette, who sighs.

"I believe you all deserve the truth. So, I shall tell you what I know." She glances at Virgil apologetically. "Believe me, it isn't much, but it's something."

"So you all know that there's just something off about this forest? Something that doesn't feel right, especially when compared to other towns?" They both nod slowly. "Well, do you believe in magic?"

Virgil opens his mouth, ready to snap at her, _no he does not_, slowly shuts it. He takes a sideways glance at Patton, who is avoiding all of their gazes.

"This forest is ruled by a king. We call him the King of Lies, or the Snake Prince. But, not to his face."

Virgil snorts. "Jeez, nice of you."

"If you wish to keep your life, you don't dare speak that name to him." Virgil shuts up, sobered. "He used to be a kind, generous ruler, but something happened, and he grew cold. The disappearance of his lover was the final straw, and he snapped. But, recently, the king has claimed he has returned, and that those who find him and deliver his lover to him will receive a glorious prize. Others, such as I, believe that the time is right, and he can remove the tyrant from the throne."

_Virgil wasn't anyone's idea of a hero._

"And, I'm guessing that's the Orion guy?" Virgil asks, and she nods. The trees grow thinner ahead of them, Virgil sensing they've reached somewhere.

_Virgil never wanted to be a hero._

Patton shifted uncomfortably next to them. Odette, as if sensing his distress, turned around. "Don't worry, dear Patton, your friend is alright, at least for now." His stomach dropped at that statement. _Roman and Virgil are here, then who is she talking abo-_

_'Time's ticking out, little hero, which one of you is missing?'_

Patton looks like he's reached the same conclusion as him, looking up sharply. "Wait, who are you talking about?"

_'Which one of you have you forgotten?'_

"Patton..." Roman quietly starts. "Orion is Logan. But, he doesn't remember that."

_'All the chips are down, little heroes, it's time for your story to start.'_


	12. An Apology Doesn’t Count If the Person you are Apologizing to is Already Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back with Orion and Janus-  
Oh No! Shit goes down!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: (spoilers!) cursing, implied minor character death, betrayal, violence, major character injury, domestic violence)  
Be careful you guys; this character gets a little heavy! Have fun!

_Traitor. That was a new word, wasn't it?_ Orion thought distantly as he sat next to Janus. Recently, there had been so many accusations of traitors, that he couldn't figure out if any of them were real. Well, even he knew a little better than that. He wasn't stupid. The whispers in corners of gatherings that were beginning to grow ever so slightly pointed, the discontent that was beginning to grow. But, he secretly wondered if any had merit to them.

Out of anyone, Orion was the one who noticed the most how much the king had changed.

_Speaking of which_, Orion thought to himself as Janus's crooked smile turned upwards, his hard eyes not matching, _here's another example_. His hand turned dismissively upwards, the guards around snapping to attention.

"**Don't** bring him here."

Two of the guards rushed away, the only sound the crunching of leaves under their feet. Orion could feel his heart rushing through his ears, praying that Janus would only teach him a lesson and not _make_ a lesson out of him.

A figure was dragged out from the small entrance to the clearing. Orion had to squint to see him, shadowed as such under the new branches, dome-like over the edges of the clearing. Orion was sure it had never been so dark in here before.

"I said to totally **not** bring him here, what is he still doing over there?" The officers scrambled to reach the thrones, dropping the figure below the throne. Janus hissed under his breath. "Would you **like** to take an early retirement? Or perhaps take his spot?" It was dead silent.

"I **thought** so."

"Fancy yourself a dictator, my king?" The man below him struggled to his knees, a curled smirk painted on his bloody face. The sickly sweet smile slipped off Janus's face for a moment, irritation painted over it instead.

"I **do** think you fancy yourself an early death, my dear subject." The other scoffed, struggling to his feet. The guards rushed to the prisoner's side, ready to take action, before Janus waved them off. "It's **not** like he was planning to kill me or anything, right?"

Orion's blood ran cold. "Right?"

The other laughed, a bitter, broken thing. "Do you think I fear you? I knew the consequences of my actions when I took them. I. don't. fear. you."

Janus rushed to his feet in a fluid movement, looming over him. His hand shook at his sides as his face switched between different faces, each impossible to focus on and each more terrifying than the last. The other flinched back, but Janus's gloved hand reached out and snapped onto the other's collar. "_What about now?_"

One of the guards stepped forwards. "My king, I think that is enough-" Yellow eyes trained on him, instead.

"Would you **not** like to say that again?" His voice was dangerously low. The guard swallowed, and shook his head. "That's **not** what I thought."

Janus switched his gaze back to the deemed 'traitor'. "Now, to not deal with you~"

Orion was usually careful, and cautious, and able to swallow his tongue and _sit down_. But for the one time in his life it mattered, he was impulsive. The words were out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying,

"J, please, we don't have to do this."

The figure crumpled to the ground as Janus released his grip on him. The king stalked over to Orion, smiling tightly. "I'm sorry, dear, what did you **not** just say?"

"I didn't- I didn't mean it like that, I-" Orion fumbled, desperately trying to regain the situation.

"That's what I **didn't** think, dear." Janus delicately grasped his hand, bringing it to his lips. "After all, you **wouldn't** betray me now, dear?"

Orion avoided meeting his eyes. His hand stung. "Of course."

Janus smiled, all of his teeth showing. "Good, darling."

He turned around, facing the guards, Orion's hand still in his grip. "**Don't** execute the traitor." Sick to his stomach, he watched as the figure was dragged away. Was Orion the last to see him as an actual person, not _traitor_ or _prisoner_ but just a _person_, before the other faded from this life?

Orion swallowed, the sour feeling in his stomach turning and twisting. He looked at Janus and quietly asked, "Do you know who he was?" Janus turned towards him, a fond expression on his face.

"Oh, I'm so sorry darling, I forgot you **didn't** have such a...weak stomach for this sort of thing." Orion nodded tightly, lips pressed together as if to stop the words from spilling out, like sludge from his tired mouth. "Well, I suppose you **can't** go for now."

"Thank you." The gratitude fell stiffly to the ground between them. Janus dropped his hand, the silence between them speaking wonders.

"By the way, his name **wasn't** Harley." Orion shivered, the base of his wings tingling with something as he left.

————

"Orion! What's up!" His friend, Thomas, shouted happily at his approach. He was quickly surrounded by Thomas and his friends, Joan and Talyn. Rolling his eyes, he accepted the brief hug and stepped away.

"Well, if you mean literally, then the sky," Joan smirked slightly at his words. "But, as I think you mean 'what's up', as in how am I doing, then I am doing fine." He pulled out his notebook, which Roman had made for him a little while ago after he 'butchered his appreciation for slang for the last time!' , or something like that.

Thomas gasped, reaching for the notebook. "Woah; check him out!" Orion handed over the notebook, watching the pages flip and turn with Thomas's hands.

The other two crowded around the notebook. Talyn snorted at one of the pages. "Did you really have to write all of these down? Don't you have some amazing memory or something?" Orion sighed exasperatedly.

"You can thank Roman for that one." He gestured for the book's return, and Thomas begrudgingly handed it over. _Speak of the evil and then it shall appear_, he thought as he caught sight of Roman's telltale red sash approaching.

"I was summoned!" Roman jumped forwards, sword in hand. _Where did that come from- _"Your Prince, at your service." Orion rolled his eyes at the joke. It wasn't much of a secret to anyone that when Roman had met Janus and Orion, he had asked to be called Prince. But instead of being embarrassed, he seemed to take it in stride.

"Ah yes, Princey, just the man I was looking for." Joan slid an arm over his shoulder. "Orion here is being a little shit-"

"Excuse me!"

"You're excused." Orion made an offended noise. "-And he won't tell us how he's actually doing."

Roman whirled around to face Orion. "Secrets, secrets, are no fun; tell me now or else we're done!"

Orion looked them each in the eyes, one by one, seeing their determination shine through. "It's truly fine, it's just some things with- with the king." According to how Roman grasped his sword tighter, his voice crack did _not_ go unnoticed. Unfortunate. "Look, something happened today, and I am just- just not the most pleased about it."

Roman's eyes softened, and he gently grabbed Orion's hand. Lightning seemed to shoot from the other's calloused fingers gently stroking his hand.

"It's okay, Ori, you can tell me." He looked up into the other's green eyes, pinched with concern. His wings danced nervously behind him, matching the pounding of his heart in his ears.

"I-," He looks around, panicked. _Should he tell him?_ It could turn out great, with Roman listening, and understanding, and giving him a hug that rested just below the small of his back, making him feel safe, and secure-

_No_. He shook his head, getting rid of those thoughts. _That would never happen._

"It's nothing." He snapped, making Roman step back, a wounded expression on his face. He did feel the tiniest bit guilty, but that was quickly smothered. "It's _nothing_. Now, if you would excuse me, I have to go. Dee's waiting for me."

He stormed past them, refusing to look in their eyes, because if he couldn't see them, maybe he could convince himself what he was doing was right. He was protecting them, wasn't he?

Wasn't he?

____

He walks into their home, where the stove merrily crackling distracts himself from the silence. "Janus, I am back!" A slow clap emerges from his right, where Janus is leisurely sitting in an armchair, casually tossing a knife from hand to hand.

"Ah, there you **aren't**. Where **weren't** you before?" The other's words slipped out without a care in the world, but Orion knew better than that. Janus's carefully constructed expression is just too perfect, too apathetic to really be careless. _And besides, when had he ever known his Janus to be careless?_

"Thomas had intercepted me on my way home. We exchanged pleasantries and I was on my way." Orion carefully remarked, straightening his tie, which was a recent addition to his wardrobe. (_Even still, he could not imagine being without it now_)

The only sign that Janus had heard him was the slight tightening of his smile. "Oh, really? I guess you **can** imagine my surprise when, out of anyone, our own dear Prince had **not** come to me just a little bit ago." _Caught_.

He cleared his throat, thinking about how good a glass of water would taste right about now. _Remember: smooth and steady, Orion_. "And- and what did he say?"

_That went well._

"He **didn't** come expressing worries for you, that you **weren't** feeling upset, my dear," Janus stopped throwing his knife, gently slipping it into his pocket. The other stood, brushing the dust off his cape. "Now, would you **not** like to explain to me why you were _lying_?"

"I- I didn't intend to-" His voice cut off as Janus raised an eyebrow at him. He tutted, stalking over and grabbing Orion's hand, the soft stroking of his finger a warning.

"Now dear, you know how I **love** excuses," Janus stared down at him, more like a predator than before. "Then why weren't you lying? You **aren't** prioritizing them over me, darling, or, stars above, _plotting_ against me?" His pulse ran hot and heavy through his ears at Janus's accusation. _He couldn't know, nobody knew, how did he know?_

"Hmm?" Silence rang throughout the air. The lights seemed to dim in the corners of the rooms, filling the space, making it impossible for him to escape.

"One of the guards **didn't** let it slip earlier that the traitor was collaborating with someone." The grip on his hand grew blindingly tight for a moment before it relaxed. "Would you **not** like to say anything, my love?" The last words drew out like a sword in a sheath.

_No turning back now_. "I- I didn't mean for him to try to kill you." He weakly protested as across Janus's face splashed anger and betrayal for a moment before being replaced with deadly calm. His normally sunflower-colored eyes seemed to flash orange, as hot and as unforgiving as fire for a moment.

"So you **don't** admit to a willful attempt to treason, and-" Orion tried to wrench his hand free, but the sudden appearance of the knife against his side made him grow still as a statue.

"I did not mean it like that, I simply-" He was cut off by the sharp blade pressing into his ribs.

"Accomplice to the attempted murderer of your king, and a liar even worse than I am." Janus's voice grew quieter, but not any softer.

"Janus, please-" His begging was cut off suddenly.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT." The truth rang loudly through the cave, echoing over and over. But Orion barely had any attention to spare, besides the blade sticking into his side, just above his hips.

He whimpered, taking his left hand and pressing it around the wound. _How did Roman say to stop bleeding? Did he say to take out the knife or leave it- was_

_was he going to die?_

Janus seemed to not have noticed yet, and scoffed. "No wonder you **aren't** a traitor." Orion could barely hear him over the throbbing of his side and the ringing in his ears. He wrenched his hand out of the other's, taking a few steps backwards.

He could see the exact moment Janus saw the knife. The other paled, and leaned forwards, but stopped himself as he saw Orion flinch back. "I- I didn't," The other inhaled at the spreading patch of wetness across his shirt.

"_Orion_," He said the name with so much emotion it was Janus he was the one dying.

Orion stumbled backwards, his wings curling protectively around him. He limped to the door, starting to shiver from the shock.

As the door closed behind him, he could almost pretend he didn't hear what Janus had whispered before he left.

"_I'm so sorry_."


	13. Think I’ll try to be someone else / Can’t be that hard to paint a person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Orion, don’t you know that people love you?
> 
> Title is from ‘Sweet Tooth’ by Cavetown! You should totally take a listen!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: (MAJOR SPOILERS) Blood and (mild) gore, stabbing, suicidal thoughts and actions, (temporary) major character death, fire and burning, cursing, weapons (specifically swords), mentions of domestic abuse  
This chapter gets intense, so be careful, you guys! <3

"_I'm so sorry_."

Orion couldn't think. He couldn't breathe, much less take the time to stop and think _rationally_ about the _gaping wound in his side_. His feet could barely meet the hardened dirt beneath them before he shoved off again.

"_Orion-_"

He looked up, the trees gently brushing the tips of the moon like a friendly greeting. _More realistically_, he admitted to himself privately, _he was looking anywhere but down._ The path he tore down without a second thought besides a need to get _out_ and _away_ from where he was seemed familiar, like a fairytale he dreamt of once.

Or maybe a nightmare.

He didn't look behind him. Maybe it was because he was running faster than he probably ever had, and didn't want to trip (because he had a stab wound, and Orion didn't really want to think about _falling_ on it). That would be _excruciatingly_ painful.

Maybe he was too scared to look behind him because he was afraid to see someone running after him. Whether it was hopefulness, sheer anxiety, or nausea raising in his stomach, he didn't know. All he knew was that if he looked behind him, whatever he saw would make him stop in his tracks like a mouse in front of a cat. What he wanted to see behind him, he wasn't quite sure.

(<strike>_I'm so sorry._</strike>)

Orion was starting to think that running with the knife _still in his side_ was a bad idea. He was never really the athletic type, to start with. That was more Roman's suit. Maybe he should just stop for a minute, under the next tree, and just sit for a second, maybe just close his eyes and-

_no_. He was not going to stop here. _He was not going to die here. _Not yet. And besides, he still had so much left to do, thinking about a slow dance with someone whose arms curled protectively around the small of his back.

(_I'm <strike>sorry</strike>_)

He had finally stopped, under a big oak tree that spread its limbs wide to the world. His wings shuddered as he gently pried his hands off the wound to inspect it. Well, it certainly hurt. _That's an observation for the books, Orion,_ he thought wryly. But, he was right. Orion was definitely impressed with his past self for _running with it._

He probably shouldn't take the knife out until he has the option to properly care for it, which isn't now. What he needs to do is go somewhere, to someone he can trust, and have them take care of it. With how much his hands are shaking, there's no way Orion is going to be able to stitch a wound closed, or even _stand_ for much longer.

He takes his tie from around his neck, leaving Orion longing for the missing familiar pressure. The dark blue turns maroon in the pale moonlight as Logan presses it against his side, ominous like blood in the water. _Sorry Dee_, He thought, a bitter smile on his face. _I ruined your gift._

(_I'm so sorry, Orion)_

_(I'm sorry, <strike>Janus</strike>.)_

The weight of someone staring at him prickled along the base of his neck. His chest seemed to cave in onto himself, his heart picking up pace again. Tears prickled in his eyes as he wondered to himself, if fate can really be so cruel. _He had just gotten away from Dee, why can't he just leave?_

_He just wants to go home. The question was, where was his home? _He blinked away some stubborn wetness in his eyes. Orion steadied himself for a second, and turned around slowly, curled protectively over himself like he was awaiting something. Looking up, he sees the figure slowly move forward, with eyes that catch the light like sunflowers.

_Or more like fires._

"Why are you here?" Is the first thing out of Orion's mouth when he sees the orange-eyed traveler from so long ago. His memory hazily provided him a copy to match against, but Orion would know those eyes anywhere. He had woken up in cold sweat thinking about them too many times to just _forget_.

The other smirks, a sly thing that doesn't reach their eyes. "Ah, I would say curiosity killed the cat, but it looks like you've done that yourself, hmm?" Orion flushes.

"That phrase is entirely nonsensical, as I am clearly not a cat, and am not dead." The _yet_ goes entirely unspoken, but hangs heavily through the air. The other steps closer, clearly amused. His right hand shakes, not from fear, but from rage now.

"_You_." Orion hisses, teeth grinding together almost painfully. "This is _entirely_ your fault, why are you here?" He feels like a balloon has swelled up in his chest, pressing at the edges like it has to pop, but just won't.

This was the person who had ruined his life.

Their orange eyes shine darkly in the night light, and they step forward, close enough to reach forward and touch his face. "What, I can't just check on you, little bird?" The other drawled, Orion's wings twitching uncomfortably behind him at their words.

"You seemed quite...upset the last time I saw you. And now, apparently." The last words added on like a second thought. Like they could look at him and not see Orion's life slipping through his own fingers, and think it's funny.

"You- _you ruined everything_." Orion stumbles up, standing, a little painfully, on two legs. "You did something to him- I'm not quite sure what- but you showed up, and everything went from there. Cause and effect, so what did you cause?"

The other tilts their head, like they weren't expecting what Orion had just said. "You are smarter than I thought. If it's any consolation, I didn't exactly want to do that. It was just the way things had to be." They mused, humming thoughtfully. The trees shiver as a lone wind blows through, the silence as loud as any telling. Suddenly, their eyes focus onto his, boring into his like they are trying to read a particularly hard problem. "What do you want?"

Orion blinked. "Wh- what?" His head must be spinning more than he thought.

"What do you want?"

_Ah. Apparently not_. "Why should you care?" The suspicion does not go unnoticed, Orion's skeptical tone bleeding through his mask of apathy. (Orion could remember a time when he trusted without notice, without care. His eyes had grown dark somewhere, some time. But who is he to trust someone else when he cannot even trust himself yet?)

The other leaned forward, their dark jacket fluttering in the wind. They gently swiped under his eyes where frustrated tears had started to collect, leaving the skin there buzzing with something. "The real question is, why don't you?"

He didn't know anymore. He reared back at the other's question, just a second too late to be a knee-jerk reaction. Orion's head felt like it was full of bees, an angry swarm that jabbed at his skull, pounding and pounding. _What did he want?_

Once he thought about it, it wasn't that hard to figure it out. He wanted things to go back to _normal_, where he would not have to get worried about bleeding out in the middle of the forest because there would be someone to protect him. He wanted to drink shitty beverages and make fun of snobbily-dressed people with Talyn, and have stupid rap battles with Joan, and roll his eyes as Thomas made a ridiculous pun, and slow dance with Roman under the trees.

Most of all, he just wanted Janus back. And not the one that smiled like a double edged sword, and laughed like a warning. He wanted the one that surprised him at night with a cheeky grin, and kissed him gently, and told him that he loved Orion, and wasn't lying. _He wanted to go home. Is that much to ask for?_

As his side stung painfully, he realized the answer to his question. "I need to leave." His words tasted like stone weights.

Orange lights blinked slowly in front of him. "Do you want a way out?" They asked, holding something out in their hand, the shadows surrounding them making the edges of the small object blurry. _Is that-,_ Orion's face must have shown his blatant confusion, as the other chuckled. _Is that a berry?_

———

_He was fine. Everything is fine_. Roman thought to himself, wringing his hands nervously. He just needed to go on a walk, and burn off his restless energy, because if he could not go to sleep on time, then he wouldn't be acting very princely in the morning.

It was getting harder to convince himself that everything was fine. He had the looming sense of _wrongwrongwrong_, especially after he had talked to Dee earlier. His stomach flipped and flopped uneasily, and Roman knew it wasn't the fact that he had cream of mushroom soup earlier that caused it. Okay, maybe a little.

("Uh- Dee? Can I talk to you?" Roman hesitatingly said as he approached the other. Janus slowly blinked at him, gold eyes layered with boredom as he lounged over his throne. 

"You **didn't** need me?" Janus's voice slipped through the air like a careless word. Roman swallowed nervously as he choked back the what-ifs that fought inside his brain for him to just _turn back and pretend it was a mistake._

"It was just that Orion was acting a little strange earlier, and it wouldn't be very noble of me to abandon a damsel in distress?" Roman stumbled, feeling very much like he was standing under a spotlight as Janus's eyes zeroed in on him as Orion's name was mentioned. He stood tall, shoulders back and face plastered with a confident grin.

"Ah, I **don't** see." Janus flippantly replied, but Roman could see how his knuckles tightened over where he was adjusting his cape.

"If you could just check on him, you would have me forever in your debt!" Roman boomed, drawing a little smile from the others' face. The other slipped off the throne, and stepped towards him.

"Oh?" He purred, causing Roman's face to flush. The other carefully caught Roman's wrist, pulling him closer. "You **wouldn't** assume I wouldn't take care of my love?" The words casual, but the intent bit into Janus's tight smile.

"No! I would never-" He quickly backtracked.

The other stepped back just as suddenly as he approached. "Kidding, kidding. I **won't**." Roman's shoulders slumped with relief.

"Thank you very much! I hope you know it is very appreciated!" Roman gave a quick bow before leaving.)

It was only now that he was beginning to feel like something was wrong. It _might_ just be the soup, or maybe just a bad day, but Roman's gut is never wrong. _Most of the time_, his brain unhelpfully slipped in.

As he stepped into a clearing, hoping to just sit for a bit, he knew the dead weight in his stomach wasn't wrong. Orion stood before him, eyes slightly unfocused as they stared at someone who Roman didn't recognize. They both had not seen him yet, as neither of them acknowledged his presence. A choked noise falls from his lips as he sees a dark stain on Orion's side, sending Roman reeling. _Who did this?_

"Do you want a way out?" He hears the other ask as they hold something out. _Did they do this to Orion?_ He sees Orion pause, as if considering it. That's the last straw that makes Roman's control slip, and his mouth opens and-

"Orion?"

——-

Orion slowly tears his eyes away from the berry as he hears his name being called. Turning around, he sees (..._Roman_?) standing before him, face pinched with concern.

"What are you doing out here? Who- _who_ did this to you?" Orion hears Roman say, brows furrowed in a way that made Orion want to reach out and smooth it away.

"...I..I'm.." Orion stuttered, words stuck in his throat. Roman pauses, as if waiting for him to continue. "Why do you look so worried, Roman? I assure you, there is nothing to-"

"Earth to nerdling! You've been _stabbed_!" Oh. Orion had forgotten about that. Apparently he voiced that thought out loud, as Roman shakes his head and reaches for him. "Um, I know a little first-aid, but Talyn'll be much better at this than I am, and what are you doing out here?" He fussed over Orion's side, gently lifting up his cupped hands and clicking his tongue. "You've been _stabbed_ for theatre's sake, apparently Dee hadn't drilled in the 'self preservation instincts' well enough, even though _I've_ gotten the lecture and I'm not even dating him-"

"You can't tell Jan-." His voice cut off suddenly as the lump in his throat grew to a rock. "you can't tell him, Roman. please." Roman stared into his eyes for a moment, face hard with something indecipherable.

"Alright, I won't." Roman says softly, voice firm and steady. _Roman was like that._ He thought, a little hysterically. _Like a rock._

"Promise?" He wouldn't admit it, but his voice wavered. Roman gently pressed over his hands.

"I promise." He turns around to look at the other. "Now, who are _you_? Did you stab Orion, because if you did, I swear there won't be a single person who finds your body." Roman draws his sword, earning a full-body flinch from Orion, who scrambles away from Roman.

"Roman, I promise you it's oka-" The other's enraged shouting drowned him out.

"If you laid a _single_ hand on his head- you won't want to know what will happen-" Roman swings his sword wildly about, casually dropping off a few of the bushes' leaves.

"Roman, I-"

"You know, this is exactly why I need my sword! To keep _villains_ like you away-"

"STOP!" He screams, frustration curling up his throat. His hands shiver slightly as Roman reers around towards him. Everything that he bottled up today comes pouring out, leaving him shaking and raging. "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT ANYWAY! You didn't _have_ to go to J- Dee to talk, but of course you did, because you're 'noble' _Prince_ Roman! And now, I do not believe I can safely return to my _home_ because you had to go blab your mouth to the king!" The torrent of words leaves him breathless. _Blab was a vocab word_, Orion thinks bitterly.

Roman's sword dropped slightly at his words. "Orion, I-"

"No! You do not get to apologize to me! I was stabbed because you could not keep your nose in your own business, as per usual!" Orion bared his teeth defensively, stalking over to the orange-eyes figure, who was standing there silently. He grabbed the berry out of his hand, holding it, trembling.

"You know, I thought you would know that I was trying to get the king off the throne." Roman flinched back in disbelief. "Thomas knew. It wasn't that I didn't love J- _him_, it was just that he couldn't continue on the throne. I love him, I _loved_ him, and I still attempted to do what is right. You know how immensely difficult that is, even when you don't get stabbed by-" His voice choked off as he angrily wiped at the tears coming from his eyes. As he stared at his hand, the finality of what he was about to do looming over him, his whirlpool of emotions finally dies down.

"You do know I'm sorry, Roman?" A calm acceptance seemed to wash over him. He smiled bittersweetly as Roman's sword clattered to the ground.

"_Please, I-_" Roman finally whispered, staring painfully into Orion's eyes, begging, pleading with him to stop. It might just be the fact that his head had not stopped swirling since Roman arrived, or the fact that he probably just went into emotional shock, but he's calm.

He's shaking, just a little bit, but just enough that when he raised his hand to his mouth, he can feel a tremor. _The berry tastes sweeter than he thought_. The last thing Orion saw before he collapsed to the ground is Roman's heartbroken face, and murmured words that he cannot hear.

——-

He's just laying there, and Roman cannot do anything. He's just _laying_ there on the ground, and Roman cannot do _anything_. Roman feels frozen, and most of all, helpless. He had always hated that feeling. When he was younger, he used to think that he could do anything.

(He remembers laying, warm and safe, in a bed. His father was reading him a bedtime story, one of his favorites about a silly cat and mouse.

"And the mouse stood there, frozen, as the cat reached towards him. Luckily, and unluckily for the cat, the shelf the mouse was hiding under was too small for the other to fit under." Roman remembered being confused.

"But why didn't the mouse just move?" His father looked at him for a second with an expression that was too difficult for child-Roman to understand.

His hand reached out, smoothing the covers in front of him. "Sometimes when things are very, very scary, it can be hard to take action." His deep green eyes twinkled (just like Roman's did) then, as a sly smile grew over his face. "It's better to just stay out of trouble. Right, my little troublemaker?"

"Excuse me! I don't find the trouble, it finds me! It's not my fault I'm bad at hide and seek!" He had protested adamantly. "Anyways, if _I_ was in trouble, _which I never am_, I would just pull out my sword and scare the bad guys away! Real knights aren't scared!")

He wondered back to when he used to have such a black-and-white view of the world. There were bad guys, and then heroes would come in and beat the bad guys every time. That was just the way the story went. But now, as he stood frozen in front of Orion's motionless body, he wasn't so sure anymore.

("Real knights do get scared, my little hero. It's what they do _after_ that makes them seem fearless.")

_Lot of good that did him_. His father hadn't lasted much longer, fading into just a bittersweet memory in Roman's mind. Roman thought, a little bitterly. But his father's words echoed in his head, snapping him out of the trance he had trapped himself in. He stepped forwards, one after the other, to kneel at Orion's side. The words that had seemed stuck in his throat (_please_) came tumbling out like an actor that missed their cue.

"_I love you_." The soft, almost murmured words sat solemnly next to him, as useless as a ghost to stop what had already happened. The tie that had pressed against his side, navy dyed a dark violet, slowly tumbled to the ground. He picked it up, twirling the slender fabric between his fingers. That's when he felt someone approach behind him, the shadow pouring over his head.

"Well, you can say your goodbyes." That _immediately_ set off an alarm in Roman's brain as he whirled around to face the other.

"Excuse me, what the hell does that mean?" The other reached down to Orion, turning the other's sleeping face almost delicately if Roman didn't know better. Roman reached forwards, ready to swat the other off, but his hand was caught in a vice grip.

"I'm quite sorry about this." Orange eyes stared at him sadly.

"Sorry about wha-"

"This." Suddenly, the orange eyes glowed, brighter than a million suns and more hypnotic than a swaying lamp. Roman blinked dizziness away.

"What- what're you doin'?" He slurred, trying to wipe at his eyes, but finding his arms had turned into lead. The other gently pushed him to the ground, but Roman was finding it harder to focus on what was happening. "Stop, what's happenin'?"

"There was nothing you could do." The words were spoken reassuringly, almost as if the other was trying to console him. _Ridiculous_. His eyes were closed, and he could barely keep his grasp on Orion's loose tie. "It had to be."

There was a sound like the other had stood up and sighed, but the only thing Roman could see were the lights that were imprinted on the back of his eyelids. He was really tired, maybe he could just-

take a nap. He could almost imagine his father's cool hands were stroking back his curls as he faded into darkness.

———

"are you **not** lying there! **Don't** wake up, you complete imbecile!" He felt stinging pain on his cheek as he slowly blinked open his eyes. The darkness surrounded the figure who had apparently slapped him awake.

"Why're you wakin' me up,'' He groaned, flopping over, his face running into something cool and damp. '' 's still dark." 

"Where **isn't** Orion?" He shot forwards at those words, eyes wide open with panic. _Where was he, where did he go_? The place where Orion had been laying was now bare. The only thing that shows Orion had ever been there was the every-so-slightest dark hue to the dirt in front of him.

The tie in his hands hung limply. "They- they _took him_." Roman's fist clenched at his side, just barely shaking.

"Well, you **couldn't** stand to be any more descriptive. Come on, Roman, I thought you were a poet?" The other drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"They showed up, dressed in all black like the villain's club poster child-" Dee gave an offended '_ahem_', and Roman smiled sheepishly. "Not like your black, at _least_ you have the class to wear some gold with it too. And the weirdest thing about them was the fact that they had the stupidest looking eyes! Orange may be the new black, but it definitely isn't an eye color. Like, who did they think..they are." He trailed off, watching as Dee's face drained of color.

Surprisingly (or maybe a little unsurprisingly if he thought about it), Dee lunged forward, grabbing his collar. "Where **didn’t** they go? You **didn't** just let them wander off with Orion, did you?" Dee scoffed, dropping his shirt with a brush of his gloves. "Of course this happened with you, it's like you **are** a real _hero_." Roman felt something in his chest _snap_, and he grabbed his sword, which had been discarded to the side.

"How is this my fault! I wasn't the one who stabbed him! Unlike you, Mr. Liar, I actually _care_ about Orion!" Dee, who had been pretending to check his nails- through his gloves- whipped around.

The other grabbed the tip of Roman sword, wrenching it from Roman's hands. "You **do** know anything." He seethed, fangs out and baring at Roman. Roman jumped at him trying to grab his sword back.

"Give that back you infidel!"

He felt a sharp elbow in his side. "Excuse you-"

"That's literally my sword! You petty thief!" Roman cried out. Dee knocked him back a few measures with an aimed kick to his knees. "Hey!"

"You know, only heroes **don't** deserve swords." Roman's mind went blank with _ragepaingrief_, and he swiped out a foot, knocking Dee to the ground.

"At least I tried to save him!" Roman grabbed the tip of the sword, pulling it towards himself. "At least I wasn't a petty coward! At least- at least-"

"_I love him!_" They both shouted at once. The tug of war that had gone between them stopped as Dee let go of his side, the sword following Roman's interia through his ribcage. Roman stood, frozen for a moment before he collapsed to the ground.

Dee watched, eyes wide open with panic, as Roman blindly felt his side. "I didn't-" The other visibly swallowed. "I didn't mean to lose both of you."

Roman felt for the sword handle, bracing himself as he pulled it out. The ruby red handle matched the color of Roman's white turned scarlet shirt. Dee dropped down next to him. "What **aren't** you doing you complete _idiot_, that's how you **don't** bleed out, you **don't** know this." He gasped as he felt hands press over his wound, firm and steady.

Roman looks up and meets Dee's eyes. For once, his eyes are more sunflower than sunset, even in the dim light. He weakly smiled, giving Dee a thumbs up. They both knew what was about to happen. "Hey, it's okay, I promise you,"

Dee hissed, breath sucking in between his teeth. "**Do** go making promises you can't keep, Princey." He can see the other's eyes go watery with frustration and grief, and Roman reached out to gently wipe them away. "I **did**\- I mean, I-" Dee inhaled sharply, looking like he was preparing himself.

"I didn't mean to do that to you. I'm so sorry, I never meant- I" He choked out, Roman's eyes widening in surprise. _Wow, he could do that?_ As he saw the pained expression on Dee's face, he realized why the other lied so much. "I never wanted to hurt you. Either of you." Roman stared into the other eyes, deep and sincere for once.

Roman's head is spinning, and he's pretty sure that's not a good sign. "You know your eyes look like flowers? Like the pretty ones?" Dee tilted his head, confused but smiling weakly. "I think you must've done something to them, because sometimes they change color. You should stick with yellow ones though, orange isn't very nice." He coughed. "I swear on my honor it's true!"

Dee opened his mouth, looking like he was about to say something else, but decided against it. "Don't worry, I believe you." The other said softly, watching him with a sad expression.

"Good. You can be a stubborn prick sometimes, you know?" Roman teased, Dee rolling his eyes in annoyance. He felt his eyes soften at the corners, and a genuine smile grew on his face. "Don't worry though, Dee, I still love you."

The other blinked rapidly, looking for the world like a tree had just hit him. "Call me Janus."

———

"Call me Janus." He choked out, softly in the night wind. His stubborn prince squeezed his hand once more, and opened his mouth. _He should really learn to close it before something dumb falls out._

"Alright then, Janus." The name feels foreign from the other's mouth, tasting like ash from the bridge he had burned earlier. Roman looked like he was about to say something else, but instead Janus saw his shoulders relax. He should've known that it wouldn't have been enough (_there was never enough time_) to just press on the wound (_you can never go back_).

"Take care of Orion for me, will you, Roman?" Roman raised his head once more time, green eyes twinkling like they were just sharing an inside joke. (_He wished he could go back_).

"Always." Roman looked upwards to the dying stars, and Janus felt a sense of déjà vu looking at them both. "See you later, Jan."

Roman's bittersweet but earnest smile is the last expression he ever made. He was always so expressive, like a firework, ever changing. Janus sat back on his heels, staring at the stars (_do you think they'll be happy_) above him.

As he shakily stands, he bitterly remarked to the stars above, "Of course, you **didn't** escort Orion, you dramatic knight." His gloves are stained a sunset orange (_just like your anger_).

As he walks along a familiar path, his thoughts dim down under a blanket of apathy.

(_Where were you?_) (_Where are you?_)

——-

The body of a young hero brightened as the sun creeped over the horizon. Suddenly, like a balloon popping, it bursted into flames. The flames disappear as quickly as they come, leaving a small thing in the ashes. It's eyes opened as the sun finally drudged itself from the edge, deep green like the forest's favorite leaves. A sharp wail leaves its mouth, the baby greeting the day with a complaint.

Someone runs down the path and sees the young child, tears in its eyes and ash on its foot. The child tugged on a familiar orange beanie with curiosity as they picked it up. Joan sighed, and watched the child with saddened eyes. "Oh Roman, what did you get yourself into?"

(_Don't they know that a phoenix can never really die?_)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you hate me yet! (I’m joking,,,,unless?)  
I hope you enjoyed!


	14. the drowned speak sorrowfully sweet / but what is a wish to a dying man?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We’ve come full circle.  
The question is, where are we going from here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: (Spoilers!) Cursing, Reference to Major Character Death, Mentions of Unreality, Mentions of Weapon, Implied Kidnapping

“Orion is Logan. But, he doesn’t remember that.” 

_ Well, that certainly changes things. _ Virgil thought to himself. He stared at Roman, waiting for Roman to grin and go ‘just kidding, finding emo! this is just a prank!’, but Roman just stared somberly forward.

“Haha, princey, that’s a funny joke,” Virgil cracked, trying to get Roman to admit to the prank. His breath was starting to come in a little shorter, but he took a deep breath, visualizing his inner Logan. _ He had to be joking, there was no way Logan is that old. _

“I wouldn’t joke about this, Virgil.” He jolted as his name came out of Roman’s mouth. Roman never, ever, _ ever _ say their names. 

(“My Chemically Imbalanced Romance, All Time Low, emo-“ 

“You know I have a name, right? And you can use it, it’s a pretty good name.” He had sarcastically said, rolling his eyes. Roman had smiled at him, grinning grandly.

“This is how I show my appreciation!” He protested. Virgil socked him gently in the arm. 

“What, the sixth love language, nicknames?” Fondness had seeped through the bottom of his tone. “And did you look up all those bands, or what?” 

“First of all, excuse you, second of all-“)

“Well fuck, then.” Virgil said, a huff of air leaving his chapped lips. Odette glanced at him, before shrugging.

“I do believe this is a reasonable ‘well fuck’ situation.” Odette dryily said, a small upturn of her lips. Roman laughed, a small noise in the vast woods. As the echoes of Roman’s laugh die off, Virgil is suddenly aware of _ how exposed _ they are right now. Why are they just walking casually in the woods if there is an ‘evil king’ that has a price on their friend’s head? As Roman fidgeted, a little uncomfortably, Virgil realized he wasn’t the only one who thought of that. 

Virgil awkwardly coughed, blushing as everyone turned to look at him. _ Yea, that’s what happens when you draw people’s attention, Virgil, _his brain added very unhelpfully. “So- uh, why didn’t you like tell us that earlier, princey?” Roman turned sharply towards him, the dull light highlighting Roman’s angry (but handsome) eyes. 

“I know, I’m just a fuck-up, who does dumb things! Thanks for reminding me, V for Vendetta!” Roman sighed exasperatedly, turning away from him.

“You didn’t change the nam-“

“I know!” Roman’s outburst leaves a sharp silence that rings in Virgil’s ears. _ Great, _ Virgil thought to himself, _ Just great. _Roman’s sash flung backwards with momentum as he stalked forwards, walking in front of all of them. 

Virgil groaned as he started forwards, grabbing Roman’s arm. “Look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It was clearly an asshole move, so, uh, sorry.” Roman’s eyes squinted for a minute as he scanned Virgil’s face, before softening.

“I _ suppose _ I accept your apology.” The other sighed dramatically, but the fond expression on his face outweighed his tone. Virgil gave a small, crooked smile, and Roman leaped at him. 

He groaned, immediately trying to wiggle out of Roman’s grasp. _ Curse his stupidly muscular arms. _ “Alright, get off,” Roman made no move to leave except to hug him tighter. _ He’s a theatre kid, how is he so strong? _“Alright, get off asshole, I’m taking back my apology-“

“No takesies-backsies!” Roman sang, looking down at Virgil with a smug smile. They both suddenly realized _ exactly _how close both of them were. Virgil flushed, awkwardly staring Roman in his eyes. Almost frozen, Virgil hastily averted his eyes, looking anywhere but Roman and-

_oh no. _Patton stood to the side, watching Virgil and Roman with a puckered expression on his face. _It would’ve been nicer if Virgil had just punched Patton in the face, _he thought as the other’s eyes went a little glassy through his glasses. Patton watched the two, standing with his hands barely shaking at his sides. Virgil had the throat-punching, heart-squeezing feeling of _oh no I just fucked up, big time. _Turning back to look at Roman’s vaguely guilty face, he wasn’t the only one. 

Virgil swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Patton-“ 

Patton just smiled, all sadness immediately slipping from his face, expect for the unexpected shine of his eyes. “Oh gee, kiddo, why ya looking so glum?” _ What the absolute fu- _

“Patton,” He tried again. Someone cleared their throat from behind him, and Virgil whirled around. 

A short, brown-haired person stood before Roman, eyes darting nervously between the three of them (and their unresolved romantic tension). The other’s hand twitched forward, as if to shake Virgil’s hand, but stopped as if they had decided against it. “Uh, sorry to interrupt, but, uh-“ Odette stepped forwards from next to him, a soft expression on her face. 

“Bee, I told you to wait.” The other, Bee (apparently that was their name, but Virgil wasn’t going to judge. His name was _ Virgil _.) rolled their eyes, turning to Odette.

“Well, technically I didn’t go anywhere, you’ve basically already arrived.” 

Odette scoffed lightly, giving the other a light swat on the head. “If you have to use the word technically, Bee, it doesn’t count.” 

Virgil awkwardly cleared his throat, feeling like he was intruding on something private. “Um, Odette, would you like to introduce us?” The newcomer’s eyes focused on him intently, making Virgil squirm with discomfort. “I mean, I’m always the dark, broody, and mysterious type, but it gets old.” _ Smooth. _

The other visibly relaxed by a few degrees, eyes softening in the corners. “Oh, you can call me Bee, but it’s actually Brian!” They beamed softly, giving a soft smile. Brian’s hair rippled in the dying breeze, revealing that the color was more of a tawny coat, similar to a cub. 

“I’m Virgil, but I just got to ask: why Bee?” 

“Oh, that started because they were always buzzing around, like a bee. My sibling has been sticking their nose into shit they weren’t supposed to be before they knew the word ‘technically’.” Odette responded, gently ruffling her sibling’s hair. Brian wrinkled their noise, swiping her hand off with an annoyed look. 

“I’m Patton!” Virgil looked over to Patton, who waved excitedly. 

“And I’m Roman, and I wish to extend you my warmest wishes.” Patton had a glint of something in his eye, and Virgil had the feeling of impending doom. 

“Don’t you mean you _ swarm-est _wishes?” Odette stared at Patton for a second, before immediately turning around and walking away. 

“I can’t deal with this right now-“ She groaned, a deep sigh that was riddled with exhaustion. Virgil could relate. 

“Oh come on, Swan Bleak, it’s not that bad!” 

“You didn’t tell me that he made _ puns _-“ 

——-

_ This was decidedly not how Roman imagined his day going. _ He thought that he was just going to hang out with his friends, but instead he’s going on a magical adventure! Even if that was very on-brand for Princey, as Virgil would say, Roman had enough of adventures for a lifetime. _ More than one, in fact, _ Roman thought bitterly. 

Is it that much to ask for his happy ending? He’s _ worked _ and _ fought _ and _ died _for it; shouldn’t it be someone else’s turn? Lights down on this adventure, and the hero gets to lounge around with the love of his life and drink piña coladas on the beach. He’s been so good, shouldn’t there be some good karma for him somewhere? 

But no, Roman’s just lucky enough to get a sequel. 

“Roman!” Someone familiar shouted his name, tearing Roman from his thoughts. He looked around, realizing that they had arrived. Joan smiled from the corner of his vision, making Roman sigh with relief. 

“Joan!” Roman cried out, smiling as Joan and Talyn, who was standing next to them, waved back at him. 

“Mx. Walker?” Virgil asked, very confusedly, from beside him. His face was just painted with confusion, which Roman would be experiencing if he did not know what was happening. _ The hero always keeps secrets, _ a voice that sounded suspiciously like Dee drifted through his head. And if his eyes glittered with tears for a split second, nobody noticed. ( _ Nobody does, _ is what Roman didn’t say).

“Ah! Virgil, meet Joan and Talyn!” He swung his arm in the direction of the two who waved back. He forced a smile on his face, even if it felt like a thousand weights. “Joan is my very lovely, one-and-only parental-unit, and Talyn, well, I’m sure you know them!” 

Virgil’s eyebrows furrowed further, looking like they were about to fall off his face with the amount of force he was applying to them. Virgil had very nice eyebrows, and Roman would hate to see them go! _ He can almost hear _ _ Orion’s _ _ Logan’s _ sigh of exhaustion at that statement. 

“That’s- that’s my english teacher.” Virgil looked helplessly to Roman, who picked up the other’s need for explanation.

“Well, yes, technically they are, I’m not exactly sure how they got a teaching degree considering they _ technically _ don’t exist under the national law, but still,” Roman cleared his throat and continued. “They are! But they are also here!” 

Virgil turned to Talyn, who approached as Roman’s words died off. “Uh, hi Mx. Walker. Is it rude to ask why the hell you are here, or..?” The other trailed off.

Talyn chuckled, smiling a bit. “Well, we were just watching over Roman. I mean someone had to watch over his dumbass, otherwise he would do something stupid.” 

Roman interjected. “Not true! I’ve have you know that I am a knight, someone who is very responsible!” Joan grinned with a certain twinkle in their eye.

“Please, don’t act like me and Talyn aren’t your only brain cells.” Joan adjusted their beanie, pulling it behind the scruff at his ears. Roman wondered for a second if he had ever seen them without it, but it seemed to _ always be on their head _. 

“What- alright, maybe I do _ some _ maybe idiotic things,” Joan glared, making Roman backtrack. _ Damn. _ “Okay, maybe some _ mildly-life-endangering _ things, but in my defense, it seems perfectly safe at the time!” Or maybe Roman just didn’t have a self-preservation instinct. He certainly had a sword instinct, and a musical instinct (that were always timed perfectly, thank you very much), but maybe a tinesy, einsy weensie self-sacrificing instinct. 

Roman had never understood why that was a _ bad _thing; sure, maybe if Patton did it, it would be bad, but Roman had the ability to survive these situations! He had a sword! And his wits! (His chest ached for a second, like a long-forgotten wound. It was probably nothing.) 

Patton lightly coughed to the side of him, a questioning look on his face. And boy, did Roman know a _ lot _ about questioning (he was as straight as his hair), but that was off topic. “Uh, Roman, how _ do _ you know Log- Orion?” Roman catched the correction. (Out of anyone, he understands. He has a hard enough time separating the two in his mind already.) “Didn’t it happen like, a _ long _ time ago, if I’m right?” Odette nodded slowly. Roman didn’t like where this was headed. “I’m guessing some, uh, _ Stranger Things _ happened with Logan’s scenario, but how are you here?” 

Roman felt like a bucket of ice water was dumped over his head. He went stiff, head full of memories of _ reaching out but failing _ , and _ orange eyes _ . “I wouldn’t have left if I didn’t...have to.” He carefully puts it. _ It wasn’t like he knew any better. _

A low, raspy voice drawled out. “Oh, what, Princey, did you like, die?” If Roman’s reaction to Patton’s was bad, it was nothing compared to how he reacted to Virgil’s. His body flinched back, curling into himself, watching as Virgil’s sly smile slipped off his face. Avoiding eye contact, he flung a hand through his hair carelessly, looking anywhere but the others. 

A gentle touch on his shoulders startled him out of his spiraling thoughts. _ And here he thought Virgil was the anxious one. _ Patton turned to him, a sad, sympathetic (not pity, _ anything _ but pity) on his face. “Do you remember it?” He asked softly. The words seemed to hang in the air, as the tension in the clearing reached its max. _ This is it, Roman, no going back. _

That’s the cowards way out. (And if anything, Roman was not a coward. At least he hoped.) 

“I…” He sighed, trying to find the words. How does he describe that night, the night where everything seemingly went wrong? “I don’t remember how I...died,” The d-word made everything flinch back uncomfortably. _ Good, think how he feels; he’s the one who actually died! _ Roman usually liked to be the center of attention, but he did not like this. Everyone watched him like a fragile wind-up doll, as if finishing the tale would make his whole body crumple in on itself. “I just remember up to the part where Orion _ left. _” He pretended his voice didn’t crack on the last word.

He was good at that. Pretending. Roman prided himself on his acting. 

But now, as he desperately wished he could remember even the slightest bit to the ending of _ that night _, he wished he was better at telling the truth. 

—-

The sunlight dimmed the second Logan entered the forest, causing Logan to blink with discomfort. The bushes behind him seemed to grow closer and closer, like a door that once closed could not be opened. Logically, Logan knew that it was not physically plausible, as plants could not move, but something irked in his brain. Something pulsed in his gut, achingly familiar but still a warning to leave. 

But Logan had always relied on listening to his head; why should he stop now? And his head said that his instinct was wrong, that nothing was out of place or abnormal. It’s just a forest, after all. Well, except for the fact that his friends were in danger. The cloth he had grasped earlier lay hanging limply in his fingers, reminding him of the peril lying ahead of him. 

(He wished that his brain would stop trying to figure things out, though, because he didn’t need to think about how Virgil’s hoodie had gotten torn. The only thing that could rip a piece of the thick fabric was at high speeds, as if Virgil was running (_ from something? _) or if he had been dragged, and the cloth had gotten caught, and was ruthlessly torn instead of carefully taking it off the thorn, or stick.) 

Logan didn’t want to think about that anymore. 

“You coming, or what?” Sunny called from a distance, breaking him out of his thoughts. Logan looked forward to where Sunny waved impatiently, brown hair almost black in the dim light. 

“I am coming, ‘slow your horses’.” His hand twitched to his pocket, where he held his vocab cards. Then his brain _ unhelpfully _reminded him of Roman, who had gifted the cards to him in the first place. 

He started walking faster, as if he was running from his problems. _ Virgil would find it funny that he was, in fact, running towards them. _The trees loomed around him, like tall silhouettes that leaned and groaned with the stale wind. Logan shivered, raising his hands to his arms. Every hair was standing straight up. 

As he turned around, as if to get one last glimpse of the real world before being sentenced, his shoelace snagged a trailing root. He toppled forward, sending his glasses neatly off his face to the ground. Hands covered with dirt, he wiped them on his pants, cringing as the neat black fabric stained. Or as he thought, with the blurriness of his vision not blinking away. 

Fighting away the panic that threatened to bubble over, he took a deep breath, calming himself. _ First he should let Sunny know that he tripped. _“Uh, Sunny, I require your assistance! I find myself in a precarious situation.” His voice cracked on the last word. 

Squinting, he tried to make out any notice of Sunny approaching, but he couldn’t see anything. He turned his head to the ground, scanning the ground for a sign of his glasses, but between the poor sunlight and the tree roots, it was hopeless. He sat back on his feet with a deep sigh. 

His senses seemed to be on overdrive, every bird chirp seeming to be a gunshot. He could feel his hands start to tremble slightly as he finally saw a blurry figure approach from in front of him. He sighed in relief when the other’s eyes caught the light, orange as a roaring fire.

“Ah, thank you,” He could feel the stress falling off of him. If this was how Virgil felt every day, Logan wanted to give him a medal. “I seemed to have dropped my glasses somewhere when I tripped, if you could find them, that would be greatly appreciated.” The other got the message. bending over to pick something off of the ground. Sunny seemed to stare at his face for a moment, but Logan could not make out any features besides his eyes and shape without his glasses. _ Curse his nearsightedness. _

He felt the familiar plastic edges of his glasses being pressed into his hands. Lifting them to his face, he fumbled a bit as he opened them. “Thank you again, that was certainly quite nice of you,” He blinked, readjusting as he felt the familiar weight on the bridge of his nose. Looking forward, he watched as the blurry features finally took shape. “It was appreciated, Sunn-“ He trailed off. Logan felt a stone of fear drop in his stomach, weighing against his spine.

“You’re...not Sunny.” The other smirked, the careless grin catching the snake-like patterns across the side of his face, a red scratch leading all the way up from the corner of his mouth like a toddler had tried to draw a smile. 

“**Aren’t **you smart, hmm?” The other drawled. As Logan looked at his eyes, dread pinged his heart as he realized they looked more yellow than orange. 

He tried to move to his feet, but the other’s stare seemed to paralyze him. He desperately opened his mouth, hoping he could talk his way out of whatever was about to happen. (Virgil always said that it never worked, but there was nothing else he could do.) “Thank you for my glasses, but I’ll be on my way-“ 

As the familiar vocal tone and appearance connected in Logan’s mind, the other placed his hand gently on Logan’s face. “Oh, we **can** have that.” The skin buzzed under the skin where he had touched, watching, _ waiting _ for the shoe to drop. “Oh, little bird, you didn’t think you could get away from me that easily?” 

The hand dropped suddenly, and Logan stared upwards at the cruel smile on Janus’s face.

——

_ Well that was awkward. _Roman thought, as everyone studiously avoided his eyes. He forced out a laugh, something he could do almost on command because of his acting skills. “Well, that’s all in the past, and as a knight, I say we let go of the past and reach towards the future!” 

Patton and the other didn’t look _ thrilled _ at that statement. Whatever, Roman was ‘coping’, he had _ healthy coping mechanisms, _ he just...wasn’t using them right now? 

_ Not his best excuse. _

Suddenly, as if Roman had jinxed something with his statement, more of a declaration if anything, someone bursted out of the trees. They stood there, panting for a few moments, before raising their head, and beginning to speak. 

“The king has Orion.” Roman looked to where Patton and Virgil were standing, frozen, and met both of their eyes. Virgil looked like he was about to punch something (which Roman could relate to), and Patton looked like someone had slapped him in the face. 

“Well, fuck.” It took a moment to realize that those words were coming out of _ Patton’s mouth _ (yes, Mr. ‘Language!’ Patton, had just cursed). Roman felt like that was foreshadowing for what would happen next. 

_ Curse his good deductive skills. _ He thought to himself with a sigh, watching as the clearing bursted with chaos. 


	15. when the sword is mightier than the pen, even the most adept poets must adapt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can’t talk your way out of this one, Logan.  
So what will you do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: (Spoilers!) implied family death, grief, abuse of power, mentions of weapons, cursing, betrayal, kidnapping (ish), u! janus, manipulation

Odette used to have a younger brother. 

He was cheerful, and always loved to pull pranks on her. When she was younger, her favorite color was pink, ironic enough. She used to wear it all the time, and had a dress that was eye-seeringly neon pink that her brother claimed to hate. She had gotten _ many _ pranks based off of this. The best one she remembered was when she had woken up with bright, flamingo-pink hair, and couldn’t get it out for weeks. Her brother had always denied doing it, but the smirk he had struggled to contain on his face whenever she brought it up begged to differ.

(_ Of course, there was a reason she didn’t wear pink anymore. Couldn’t even stand the look of it, bile coming from the bottom of her throat the second she looked at her favorite dress. She had it buried at the bottom of her dresser. Odette couldn’t stand to look at it, but the thought of throwing it away was worse.) _

Brian used to have a twin. The two were like peas in a pod, Brian’s innocent brown eyes mixed with their brother’s mischief always led to trouble. Odette had joked when she was younger that they were actually joined at the hip, because they were never seen apart. At one point, Odette was worried that they were becoming too codependent on each other, they didn’t even seem to shit without the other in a 10 feet radius. 

(_ If Brian’s heart-wrenching sobs as they gripped onto her shirt said anything, it was that she was right. She had never regretted being right as much as now.) _

They used to have a brother. If Brian and him were peas, the three of them were puzzle pieces, perfectly fitting. No matter how much they scraped up against each other, their connection never broke, never wavered. Her brother’s name was Harley. 

(_ The dye had stained her swan-white hair for ages, seemingly waterproof, scrub proof, you name it, it didn’t come out. But after a while, she grew fond of it. _

_ By the time it faded from her hair, her brother wasn’t around to re-dye it.) _

When Harley had come storming in one night, anger practically dancing in his eyes and fire on his tongue, Odette listened. She listened to the injustices that Harley had heard, had _ seen _, the king committing, and felt herself becoming outraged. Promising to help, she watched Harley pull out his notebook, full of words that would fan these rumors into a revolution. 

(_ Harley was cocky, but he was never one to lie. So when Harley looked her in the eyes and promised that he would be okay, she believed him. _

_ She was going to be there to protect him, anyway.) _

It had gone well, at first. It always seemed to go well (at first). But one night when the air was too still and even the merrily burning candle sitting on their table made them flinch, the door burst open. She could only watch as Harley was dragged away, watch as Brian screamed his name until they were hoarse.

(_ They had given back Harley’s necklace, the one that they all had matching, the one that hung under her throat now more like a brand than anything. Guards with dull armor that seemed to block out any humanity in their eyes left it on their front porch. It had almost broken when Odette dropped it, shaking, seeing the dark stains splattered across its front. _)

Odette used to have a brother. She also used to be happy. Those two things were related.

So she watched her eyes grow hard in the mirror, her smile grow smaller and more bitter. Odette put on a brave face for her younger sibling, who was destroyed by what happened to Harley. She held his hand while he shook with tears and raged at her, and carefully picked back up the pieces.

(_ She had just lost her brother, but Brian had lost the other half of themself. _)

The first time she saw them smile, actually smile, she had almost burst into tears. 

The first time they had laughed after The Incident, she had smiled alongside them. 

(_ One night, as Odette watched her ceiling, Brian had crawled up next to her in the bed. They had sat in silence for a while, before the other’s quiet voice broke the air. “I don’t know what to do, Det. I don’t know who I am without him.” _

_ Odette had turned to look at them. “Yourself.” She could feel their shoulders start to tremble through her shirt, and wrapped an arm around them. Tears trickled down both their faces. “And besides, if you aren’t very sure right now, you still have all the time in the world to find out.” Her sibling sighed. _

_ It was the next statement that broke the dam. “Don’t worry, Bee, I’ll be here to help. And I’ll tell you, what you are right now is good enough. ” Brian flung themselves at Odette, and they both had tear tracks tracking down their faces when they woke up the next morning. _)

And so they struggled, and worked, and cried, but they had made it this far; and that had to mean something.They had setbacks, but that was okay. They were working on it. And it was good enough. 

But now, they weren’t just living day-to-day. They had a chance to be happy, to finally finish Harley’s half-written symphony. _ And _ , as Odette grinned to herself, _ a chance for revenge. So look out, you lying fucker. _

—-

“Well, fuck.” She heard Patton say next to her, blood draining from his face. The poor kid’s hands were shaking as he hugged himself, tugging at his blue sleeves. Before she could stop herself, Odette placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, just like she would do to Bee when he got upset. 

“Don’t worry, kid, it’ll be alright. We’ll get your friend back, I promise you.” Patton turned to her, eyes wide open and pleading. His other hand came up to clutch tightly at the sweater wrapped around his shoulders, the mark (_ her mark _) clearly visible on his hand. 

“How?” His voice was smaller than she had heard it in a while, almost as if Patton was still the toddler that had trustingly clutched on her hand, obvious. 

_ (“How would you like to be able to help everyone?”) _ She heard her voice echo in her head. Odette felt a tiny grin appear on her face, and waved at the kid conspiringly. 

“Well, that’s all you, Patton.” He looked, panicked, up at her face, searching it. She gave him one of her reassuring smiles.

“What-uh, I’m not so sure about that,” Patton looked around desperately at Virgil and Roman. “What about Roman? I say he’s pretty _ handy _ with a sword?” She inhaled, ( _ it’s just one pun, Odette _), and rubbed her forehead.

“Look, I'm just going to pretend you didn’t make that pun,” He had the gale to look vaguely guilty. “But _ Roman _ can’t bring back Orion’s memories. _ You _can.”

Roman looked offended at the statement. “Wait, that seems a little unfair-“ 

Odette made a _ shh _ movement with her hand, surprising Roman enough to be quiet. “Look, I’m not saying you two weren’t good friends,” (She decidedly ignored his reaction on calling them ‘friends’- she did not get paid enough to be their marriage counselor.) “I’m just saying that the power of friendship isn’t gonna do shit here. So an actual solution is Patton.” 

Patton fidgeted before her, pulling down the edges of his shirt. He looked up, smiling weakly. “Uh, would it be a good time to mention I have no idea how to do this..thing?” He seemed to notice everyone staring at him. “Well, kiddos, I can barely remember what socks I have on right now, this is a _ hole _ other problem!” 

_ Poor kid. _ Odette remembered why she didn’t usually give gifts out like this. If she was honest with herself, most of the time they were difficult and ended up slapping you in the face. The way Patton stood, arms wrapped tightly around himself, a trembling smile barely staying on his face, reminded her of her younger sibling. Who, after everything Odette had done to protect them, was standing here anyway. Even Virgil, whose defensive scowl aged his face by several years, was still a kid. 

(_ Why did it always seem that children were fighting the wars that they didn’t cause? _)

Odette couldn’t claim to be a child. Neither could Roman (or maybe he could, as Odette noted his boyish face and the acne that he was so desperately trying to hide.)

(_ Was it enough that they were trying to protect them? _)

“I think you can do it, Pat.” Speaking of Virgil, a low voice curled hesitantly through the air, almost like the words were second-guessing themselves. Virgil looked at 

Patton, and seemed to just _ take in _ his appearance, and steeled himself. “Never mind, I don’t just think you can do it, I know. If anyone can take down an evil king-dude through the power of friendship, it’ll be you, Patton.” Now, Odette had _ no _ idea what that meant, but it made Patton smile, a tentative, hopeful thing. _ Kids these days. _

(Wait- was she getting old?) Odette closed her eyes and decided to have her midlife crisis at a different time.

She cleared her throat, and continued. “Alright, so Patton fixes- heals? -_ mends _ , I’m not sure what verb,” Odette gestured vaguely. “Orion’s- _ Logan’s _memories, and with his knowledge, get the court to overthrow His Assholiness?” Roman snorted at the nickname. 

“I mean, they had always liked Orion,” Joan mused. “So, maybe they’ll listen to us?” Everyone did not look reassured by that statement. 

“What, should we say _ pretty-please _?” Virgil drily rolled out. 

Odette shared a look with Roman, who had the same concern painted on his face. They were silent for a moment, before she nodded. “Look, it’s the most perfect plan, but it’s all we got.” 

As the group prepared to leave the clearing, Roman looked at her for a moment. His eyes were tired, and frankly, Odette could agree. She was tired and sick of this shit, but someone had to clean it up. She thought to herself for a minute as she scanned the faces, missing one familiar one. “Hey, where’s Sunny?” She voiced her concerns, watching as Joan shrugged. 

“They’re probably off distracted somewhere.” Talyn suggested. _ Seems about right. _

(_ Before Harley had died, he was able to visit them one last time. After Brian had left the room, tears spilling over their eyes, Odette had somberly watched Harley. His eyes were filled with acceptance, something abnormal on Harley’s spitfire self. _

_ His soft voice filled the room one last time before she could not stay any longer. “Sometimes the heroes don’t win. Sometimes we don’t get a happy ending, but we still have to keep fighting, keep trying for one.” _

_ Harley had never gotten his; Odette was going to make one for her and Brian.) _

She could feel herself speaking, shaking Odette out of her reprieve. “Besides, there’s no other way your friend is getting saved.” Her necklace burned where it touched her skin.

—-

_ There’s no way Logan is getting out of this, _ Logan thought to himself as he stumbled to his feet. Janus offered his hand, mockingly in a way that reminded him of Roman. He glared at him, eyes hard behind his returned glasses. 

The other raised his hands placating, eyes seemingly wide and innocent. Logan took one look, and rolled his eyes in a way that would be considered ‘rude in polite society’. “I’m **sorry** , I **was** just trying to be nice.” 

Logan raised an eyebrow, confused. _ What in the name of archimedes is he talking about? _ “You are?” Janus tilted his head at his words, before realizing he was serious. _ Of course he was, he wears a necktie. _ He adjusted it, feeling miffed. _ Clearly. _

“Just-,” He huffed. “Just **don’t ** come.” Logan felt his forehead furrow even further. In his head, he replayed Roman’s words: ‘the King of Lies’. _ Now he may not be literally Sherlock, but he can see where this is going. _ Did that mean Janus just spoke in lies? What about double negatives, or phrases with multiple different meanings? Logan’s scientist brain wanted to just spill forward question after question, but the rational part of his brain held it back. _ Barely. _

Not seeing another option, he reluctantly followed the other. It wasn’t as if he knew the way out. Looking around, the wind rustled, almost menacingly, and he realized that retracing his steps was hopeless. They walked forward, the leaves below them crushed slightly, as if the path had been used before. 

As they continued on, Logan found himself watching Janus. The other’s hat seemed almost balanced on the other’s hair, as if his head was too big for the hat. Similar to his personality, from what Logan had seen. His cloak (or cape, if Logan wanted to be dramatic), was draped over his shoulders like a king’s robe, pridefully and carelessly. Scanning his face, the scales seemed almost to shimmer when the light hit them, whether from the light reflecting off the smooth scales or from a mesmer produced by them. His fingers itched to write down his observations. 

Looking upwards, Logan saw his slightly mismatched eyes, one a light yellow and the other a darker orange. _ Heterochromia. _Suddenly he realized that the pupils of his eyes were staring right at him. He quickly averted his gaze. 

“What, **don’t **like what you see?” Janus purred. Logan stared at him, noting the slight red flush on his cheeks. 

“Considering you deceived me into coming here and I am here against my will, I am inclined to agree with you.” Logan said drily, lips pursed slightly. Janus opened his mouth, sputtering for a moment, before closing it abruptly. The other stopped suddenly, leaving Logan to attempt to stop his forward momentum. 

A hand snaked out to grab his tie, leaving Logan scrambling for balance as his head tilted backwards, leaving his neck exposed. Janus shoved his face closer, the grip on his tie growing tighter. “Look, we **aren’t ** here, and I **wouldn’t** appreciate it if you kept your mouth shut for one moment and listen. You **are ** allowed to say my name in front of anyone.” Janus smirked, raising his top lip to reveal some decidedly sharp fangs that edged over the front of his bottom teeth. “After all, it **would** be a shame if anything were to happen to any of your friends, won’t it?” 

Logan’s head went white for a moment as he registered the threat. “You wouldn’t-,” He swallowed, regaining his calm demeanor. _ Now to test my hypothesis. _“You can’t leave the forest, can you?” The paling of the other’s face was clear enough to confirm his guess. “You cannot touch them out there.” 

Janus grinned, his face regaining the lost color. He played with the end of the tie, almost teasingly as he said, “That **wouldn’t ** be a problem, if they **weren’t ** actually outside of the forest.” The other dropped the dark blue tie, leaving Logan to stumble back, shock and fear draping on his face. “Now, let’s **not** enter, shall we?” Janus dropped pushed back a couple of branches to reveal two elaborately decorated chairs, and dozens of people watching in stunned silence.

Janus grasped Logan by the wrist, pulling him through the crowd of people with a predatory smile. They walked, or tripped, in Logan’s instance, towards the throne-like objects in the middle of the clearing. People stood in circles, some with shock decorating their faces, some with envy curving their faces in untrustworthy glares. As Logan looked closer, he realized some of them had _ fucking wings? _He must be dreaming.

He pinched himself, hoping to wake up back in his warm bed, with his Dad in the kitchen making waffles. But all that occurred was the throbbing skin on his wrist slowly turning red. He was let go as Janus sat back in his throne, arching his back like a satisfied cat. 

“Now, where **isn’t **my warm welcome?” Janus smiled, watching the crowd with an amused glance. Logan stood stiffly next to him, arms crossed in an attempt to reassure himself. “Kidding, kidding.”

The other carelessly gestured to the side, summoning a figure cloaked in dark metal. They stood to attention, back ramrod-straight, but hands slightly trembling. “I suppose you **can’t** give the traitor their reward now. I **did** promise a great gift, didn’t I?” 

The crowd shifted nervously as someone stepped forward from it. As Logan looked closer, he recognized the tell-tale orange eyes and nervous smile. “You did.” Sunny said, avoiding Logan’s betrayed gaze with a look of guilt. Logan felt hot-white fire bubble up in his throat, ready to spill out as barbed words and sharp quips. Sunny had lied to him; probably staged the entire thing and played Logan like a cheap kazoo. 

(Logan would ask if his friends were really in danger, but the lingering threat made by a snake made him close him mouth. _ Better to keep them out of sight, and out of mind. _)

“**Don't** Imprison him.” Janus’s hard words drew him out of his thoughts, shocking him. Apparently Sunny thought the same, as his mouth dropped open, speechless.

“Wha- But I helped you! I- I” He yelled desperately as the guards surrounded him like a cornered rat. “I deserve that reward!” 

Janus was on his feet in less than a second, a clear, fluid motion like a snake rising before its strike. “Do you now,” He purred, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Well, considering I **wouldn’t ** normally have you publicly executed, this _ is _ a gift, isn’t it?” Sunny’s face drained of all color, something that Logan shared in sentiment. Logan could only watch as the other was dragged away, kicking and screaming. As the king turned his attention to him, he felt a vague warning bell sound in his head. _ Was that what was going to happen to Logan? _

As someone who knows a lot about lessons, specifically examples (if the look in Janus’s eyes were anything to go by), he felt like what had just happened was supposed to teach Logan something. Well, it certainly taught him that he was an asshole, if anything, (_ And that’s what happens when someone crosses him.) _

“Oh, I’m **so** sorry,” The other gasped, a hand raised dramatically to his chest, gloves clutching at his cape. “I **did** offer you somewhere to sit, how rude of me.” Janus patted the seat next to him, an offer that Logan did not feel like he was allowed to refuse. “Forgive me, I **have** had many guests over the years, but I certainly can't be a bad host.” 

Logan raised a brow, unimpressed. “That’s definitely not the reason I believe you to be a bad host, rather the fact that I am here against my will, though I will add it to my list.” Janus chuckled at his words, almost patronizing. 

“It **hasn't ** been a while since someone has talked to me with such _ vigor _ , how refreshing.” Mismatched eyes grew deadly serious for a split second. “ **Don’t** sit, little spitfire.” They stared for a moment as Logan weighed the pros and cons of sitting. Pros: He would not immediately die, and he could sit while being monologued to. Cons: He might die, or his friends might die. 

He sat. 

“Now, that **was** hard, hmm?” Janus is grinning, and Logan has never wanted to choose violence more than this moment. Yes, Logan is usually the one to talk things about with his words, but nothing would satisfy him more than forcibly wiping that filthy smirk off the other’s face.

(_ ‘The pen is mightier than the sword _ ’, he remembers telling Roman at one point. _ But when a sword is pointed towards your throat, are your words the ones with power? _) 

That was something he was beginning to understand. Logan simply glared back.

Janus leaned himself forwards on his hand, clearly amused. “Where’s all your fire now, little bird?” His face flushed with embarrassment, and the king laughed to himself. _ Fine _ . He will allow Janus to underestimate him. _ If all he sees is a helpless little kid, then let him see it _. His foot shifted slightly, the pocket knife in his shoe bumping against his scratchy sock.

(“Why do _ I _need a knife, Roman, I will never need to use it-“ Roman cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips. 

“_ Because _, Pocket Protector, what if you need something to protect yourself?” Roman saw his unconvinced face, and sighed. “Besides, it can be used for more than, you know, stabbing people. Like, to cut leaves, or trees, or other nerd things-“ The other had rambled on, but Logan had silently taken it. He knew that was Roman’s way of expressing love, and had taken it, at the moment, to not hurt Roman’s feelings. 

But now, he was grateful Roman had offered it.)

_ He wanted to see a little bird, _ Logan thought, a small smile playing on his face, _ I’ll show him one. _

_ It’s up to him to remember that even the smallest birds have talons. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternatively titled *what do you have* logan: *a knife!* *YES*  
Thank you all for reading! Comments, kudos, and bookmarks are appreciated if you enjoyed! I love interacting with you all!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed the story! This is part of a series, and my first published story, and I’ll love to hear your feedback on it. ❤️❤️


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